Gwendolen sat so still that first Yuki, then Dodge, stared at her.
"What is it you think I can do with Pierre for you, Yuki?" asked the American girl, in a voice as strange as her silence.
Yuki was slightly disconcerted. "Only, dear, that I want to be sure the truth is known to Mr. Le Beau. I would have more peace to feel that he knows correctly. And he then will understand why I cannot write to him, or see him, or answer when he sings the song of Carmen I told you."
"You intend then to hold to Pierre, and throw over Prince Haganè, no matter what the consequences?" asked Gwendolen, curiously.
"I know not about 'throw over.' It sounds a disrespectful word to so great a man. But I am bound to Pierre, as you know, by the promise." Again her face flushed.
"I'll wager your father does not consider that promise binding," put in Dodge.
"No, not my father, and not Prince Haganè," said Yuki, simply. "But then, you know, they is not me!"
"I—er—presume not," answered he, absently.
Now that the conversation was all in English, the pale effigy of Iriya did not even turn its eyes from one face to the other. It was her duty to her husband to be present, and so she remained.
"Miss Yuki!" flashed out the young man, with new animation. "You haven't asked my advice, and you may not desire it. But let me say one thing. It seems awful to me,—even though I am an American, and can't know all the fine points of Japanese feeling,—to throw over a chance like this for a Frenchman! Is he worth it—?"