"You have a strange way of proving the truth of your own statements."
"What statements?"
She gave a little laugh. Her attitude, her glance, the cunning display
of a perfect figure, the laugh, the whole woman, was the incarnation of
practised coquetry. She did not admit, even to herself, that she was
afraid of De Chauxville. But she was playing her best cards, in her best
manner. She had never known them fail.
Claude de Chauxville was a little white about the lips. His eyelids
flickered, but by an effort he controlled himself, and she did not see
the light in his eyes for which she looked.
"If you mean," he said coldly, "the statement that I made to you before
you were married--namely, that I love you--I am quite content to leave
the proof till the future. I know what I am about, madame."
He took his watch from his pocket and consulted it.
"I must go in five minutes," he said. "I have a few instructions to give
you, to which I must beg your careful attention."
He looked up, meeting Etta's somewhat sullen gaze with a smile of
triumph.
"It is essential," he went on, "that I be invited to Osterno. I do not
want to stay there long; indeed, I do not care to. But I must see the
place. I dare say you can compass the invitation, madame?"
"It will be difficult."
"And therefore worthy of your endeavor.
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