“How could I accept such a thing! You are mad!... But, my dear Moreno, you would find me a terrible burden!... and besides, I am a married woman, and if we travelled together, people would inevitably make the worst suppositions about us!”
In spite of her protest, she took Moreno’s hands in hers and brought her face close to his, surrounding him with the fragrant effluvia of her perfumed flesh; and at the same time, she exclaimed warmly,
“What a great big heart you have! How can I show you how much I appreciate your offering to do this?”
Moreno assumed an imploring expression as he in turn protested; what could it matter to them what people said?... Anyway, no one knew them in Europe. They could live in Paris, that marvellous city that he had so often admired and that he might never have had the chance to see, had not Pirovani’s death made it possible ... and it was for him to thank the marquesa if she should deign to accompany him and give him her invaluable counsel.
“But your family?” inquired Elena, with an austerity of intonation belied by her eyes.
With the good-natured cynicism of a rich man who firmly believes that every difficulty in life can be solved with money, he replied,
“My family can stay in Buenos Aires. I’ll see to it that they have much better quarters than they have ever had before. All that can easily be arranged with money, and everybody will be happy. As for myself, I shall of course have quite an income, for naturally I must pay myself for my work as guardian. And besides that, I shall make money in a business way.”
But Elena persisted with her refusals, although with diminishing intensity, and Moreno thought the moment propitious for trying to overcome her resistance by describing the delights of that Paris which he had never seen, and those pleasures she had grown unmindful of for having known them so well.
“It is madness,” persisted Elena, interrupting him. “I haven’t the courage to face the scandal that would surely come of it. Just imagine what people would say if we went away together!”
And then, assuming the modest, timid expression a young girl might wear if confronted with something offensive to her innocence, she murmured,