Well, it does. Why are you angry
with me?" She gazed at him mercilessly, studying the trouble of his
face. The combative part of her nature had been roused by the glance
he had cast at her. What right had he, had any man, to look at her like
that?
Her blunt directness lashed him back into the firmness he had lost.
She felt in a moment that there was a fighting capacity in him equal,
perhaps superior, to her own.
"When I saw you come from the priest's house, Madame, I felt as if you
had been there speaking about me--about my conduct of yesterday."
"Indeed! Why should I do that?"
"I thought as you had kindly wished me to come--"
He stopped.
"Well?" she said, in rather a hard voice.
"Madame, I don't know what I thought, what I think--only I cannot bear
that you should apologise for any conduct of mine. Indeed, I cannot bear
it."
He looked fearfully excited and moved two or three steps away, then
returned.
"Were you doing that?" he asked. "Were you, Madame?"
"I never mentioned your name to Father Roubier, nor did he to me," she
answered.
For a moment he looked relieved, then a sudden suspicion seemed to
strike him.
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