"She is resigned, I suppose—and everybody about her is resigned—to the idea of her being hopelessly blind for life."
Instead of answering him, I put a question on my side. My heart was beginning to beat rapidly—without my knowing why.
"Mr. Nugent Dubourg," I said, "what have you got in your mind about Lucilla?"
"Madame Pratolungo," he replied, "I have got something in my mind which was put into it by a friend of mine whom I met in America."
"The friend you mentioned in your letter to your brother?"
"The same."
"The German gentleman whom you propose to introduce to Oscar and Lucilla?"
"Yes."
"May I ask who he is?"
Nugent Dubourg looked at me attentively; considered with himself for the second time; and answered in these words: