“I suppose so.”
“Suppose! And yet you are to be his wife!” I exclaimed.
“Who told you that?” she asked quickly, halting and looking straight at me.
“Every one discusses it,” I answered. “They say he is to be your husband very shortly. What would he say, I wonder, if he knew that you and I frivol so much together?”
“What right has he to say anything regarding my actions? I am quite free.”
“Then he is not your lover?” I inquired in deep earnestness. “Tell me the truth.”
“Of course not. We have danced together and walked together, just as you and I have done; but as for love—why, the thing is absurd.”
“You do not love him?” I asked.
“Certainly not,” she laughed. Then she added, “I never love. That is why I am not like other women.”
“Every woman denies the tender passion,” I said, smiling.