Elena looked at her husband with a certain contempt, saying at the same time, as though to herself:
“This will teach me to fall in love with paupers.... Well, if you can’t get me this money, I’ll get it!”
As she spoke an expression so significant flickered over her face that her husband sprang from his chair.
“You had better explain what you mean,” he began, frowning. But he could not go on. The Marquise’s expression had completely changed. She broke out into bursts of childish laughter, and clapped her hands.
“At last, my Bunny is really angry. And he thought his wife meant something bad.... But don’t you know that I love no one but you? Really, no one else....”
She caught him by the arm, and kissed him repeatedly, in spite of his attempts to make her stop her caresses. And he ended by yielding to them and assuming once more his humble suitor attitude.
Elena was warning him now with upraised finger.
“Come, smile a little, don’t be naughty.... But isn’t there really any money? Do you mean it?”
The Marquis shook his head. Then he looked ashamed of his powerlessness.
“But I love you just as much,” she said. “Let the old debts wait! I’ll find a way out—I have before.... Good-bye Federico!”