She raised her head coldly and haughtily, yet her voice trembled as she said:
"You will force me to say it? Then, no! No!" she repeated, as if to reaffirm her refusal.
Then, alarmed by Fred's silence, and above all by his looks, he who had seemed so gay shortly before and whose face now showed an anguish such as she had never yet seen on the face of man, she added:
"Oh, forgive me!—Forgive me," she repeated in a lower voice, holding out her hand. He did not take it.
"You love some one else?" he asked, through his clenched teeth.
She opened her fan and affected to examine attentively the pink landscape painted on it to match her dress.
"Why should you think so? I wish to be free."
"Free? Are you free? Is a woman ever free?"
Jacqueline shook her head, as if expressing vague dissent.
"Free at least to see a little of the world," she said, "to choose, to use my wings, in short—"