“Impossible,” he replied; “I should be cross, and you would not be pleased.”
She urged him; he opposed her entreaties with a polite but firm resistance.
“Adieu,” said she. “When shall I see you again?”
“To-morrow—or the day after—I do not know.”
“Really, do you not know?”
He perceived that her eyes were full of tears. Tenderly kissing her hand he said, with a smile that consoled her:
“This is the first time we have had any dispute; it is possible that I may be wrong, but it seems to me that if I were a woman I would not willingly marry a man who was always right.”
These words uttered, he assured himself anew that her eyes were humid, and then he left, charmed to have proved the extent of the empire he held over her.
When she rejoined M. Langis, the young man asked:
“Does it chance to be I who put Count Larinski to flight? If so, I should be quite heart-broken.”