"The character of the young girl seems to have been caught alive. I
criticize her only for her hardness."
"But," Esperance replied quickly, "that hardness is simply a light
veneer, the result of her education. _'Camille_,' who knew
nothing of life except through the disillusioned account of her friend
in the Convent, would soon become human if _'Perdican'_ had a
less complicated psychology."
She stopped, and was silent a minute.
The Duke looked at her.
"All the world has not the candour of a Count Styvens," he said.
This unfortunate sentence exactly answered a fleeting thought that was
passing in Esperance's brain.
"So much the worse for 'all the world,'" she said quietly and left
him.
Her father and Doctor Potain came in at this moment.
"What are you plotting against me?" she said, going up to them.
Francois caressed her velvet cheek. "You shall soon know."
The Duke had remained dumbfounded in his chair. The sudden mastery of
this child, who had for the second time rebuked him, touched his
pride. His instinct as an irresistible charmer told him she was not
indifferent to him. Still he could not define in what way he appealed
to her. Was it physical? Was it of a higher order? After a little
cogitation, he concluded that that was the secret. However, he was
wrong. Esperance was subjugated by the attraction of his masculinity
and strength, which was subtly energetic and audacious.
Pages:
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129