Part 37 (2/2)
”I have nothing to say,” he replied.
She raised her eye-brows in polite surprise.
”I thought you had requested ten minutes private speech with me.”
”I did,” said Armand, ”but I withdraw the request; explanations are vain, when one has been already judged, and judged unheard.”
”One who is taken red-handed can have no explanation that explains,” said she.
Then, of a sudden, out flashed the adorable smile, and she laughed, and flung him the white rose.
”There, dear,” she said, ”there, is your pardon-now, come,” and she held out both hands; ”come and forgive me for this afternoon.”
And when he had forgiven her, she put him in a chair and perched herself on the arm beside him.
”Tell me, Armand,” she said, ”are we never to be free of that awful woman?-where did she come from?-how did she happen to be at the Inn?”
”And how did I happen to be with her there, you want to know,” he laughed.
She nodded. ”That more than all-yet I didn't ask it.”
He took out the anonymous letter, which he had remembered to get from Courtney; and when she had read it, he tore it into bits.
”Will you have the explanation that explains now or during dinner?” he asked.
She sprang up.
”I forgot I was hungry! Come we will get Elise and Moore-that girl is a rare coquette; she makes my poor Adjutant's life very miserable.”
”It looks like it!” said Armand opening the door just as Moore caught Mlle. d'Essolde and kissed her, despite her struggles.
”I warned you, my lady,” he was saying, ”you would tempt me too far some day ... will you forgive me now, or shall I do it all over again?”
The Princess laughed. Moore's arms dropped and he sprang back, while Mlle. d'Essolde, flaming with embarra.s.sment and anger, buried her face in her hands.
”Forgive him until after dinner, Elise,” said Dehra; ”you can retract then, and resume the situation, if you wish.”
”O wise and beneficent ruler!” said Moore, bowing to the ground, ”I agree to the compromise.”
Mlle. d'Essolde looked at him in contemptuous scorn-though, in truth, she was more inclined to laugh; she never could be angry with her Irishman, for long.
”You savage,” she said, ”you brutal savage; don't ever speak to me again.”
He stepped forward and offered his arm, with all the suavity he knew so well.
”Never again after dinner, mademoiselle,” he said sadly; ”meanwhile, the pleasure is mine.”
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