demand it."

A stupid proposition, when made by two people who are forcing
themselves to say something utterly different from what they think.

Then she compelled me to take the path that led back to the chateau. I
do not know, at least I did not then know, whether this course was one
which she forced upon herself, whether it was the result of a vigorous
resolution, or whether she shared my disappointment in seeing an
incident which had begun so well thus suddenly brought to a close but
by a mutual instinct our steps slackened and we pursued our way
gloomily dissatisfied the one with the other and with ourselves. We
knew not the why and the wherefore of what we were doing. Neither of
us had the right to demand or even to ask anything. We had neither of
us any ground for uttering a reproach. O that we had got up a quarrel!
But how could I pick one with her? Meanwhile we drew nearer and
nearer, thinking how we might evade the duty which we had so awkwardly
imposed upon ourselves. We reached the door, when Madame de T-----
said to me:

"I am angry with you! After the confidences I have given you, not to
give me a single one! You have not said a word about the countess. And
yet it is so delightful to speak of the one we love! I should have
listened with such interest! It was the very best I could do after I
had taken you away from her!"

"Cannot I reproach you with the same thing?" I said, interrupting her,
"and if instead of making me a witness to this singular reconciliation
in which I play so odd a part, you had spoken to me of the marquis--"

"Stop," she said, "little as you know of women, you are aware that
their confidences must be waited for, not asked. But to return to
yourself. Are you very happy with my friend? Ah! I fear the
contrary--"

"Why, madame, should everything that the public amuses itself by
saying claim our belief?"

"You need not dissemble. The countess makes less a mystery of things
than you do. Women of her stamp do not keep the secrets of their loves
and of their lovers, especially when you are prompted by discretion to
conceal her triumph. I am far from accusing her of coquetry; but a
prude has as much vanity as a coquette.--Come, tell me frankly, have
you not cause of complaint against her?"

"But, madame, the air is really too icy for us to stay here. Would you
like to go in?" said I with a smile.

"Do you find it so?--That is singular. The air is quite warm."

She had taken my arm