She smiled a little, but there was an accent which was almost tenderness in her voice as she said to him: 'C'est de ne rien perdre de beaucoup prier! You evidently have belief in that saying. It is to ask a very great deal, but then you would give a great deal in your turn. Go away now; I will think. No, I shall not answer you; I want time for thought. Be satisfied that I am not offended, and go. I ought to be so, I suppose, but I am not. Go.'
His heart beat eagerly and exultantly. He was not refused or dismissed! 'Château qui parle, femme qui écoutee'--the old proverb drifted through his thoughts, all confused as they were in a tumult of hope and desire, and triumph and doubt. A moment's hesitation from her was more concession than a thousand caresses from a humbler woman.
'I may come back?' he repeated, as she remained silent.
'If you like, we shall meet in other places; yes, you may return in a fortnight--at this time--in this room, then I will tell you.'
'In a fortnight!'--it seemed to him to be ten years.
'Be thankful for so much,' she said, as she gave him the tips of her fingers. 'Now go. Mahmoud is in the antechamber.'
He kissed her hand with lips that burned like fire, bowed low and obeyed her. Nadine Napraxine remained motionless, her eyes were closed, her mouth smiled; she seemed to dream.
Table of contents created by Transcriber and placed into the public domain.
Minor punctuation and printer errors repaired.
Retained idiosyncratic, antiquated and inconsistent spellings.
Variations in hyphenation have been retained as in the original publication.
End of Project Gutenberg's Princess Napraxine, Volume 1 (of 3), by Ouida