revealing our pet, exclusive idiosyncrasies as simple infirmities all
mortal flesh is heir to."

"Monsieur is cynic..."

"Madame means obvious. Well: if I patter platitudes it is to conceal a
sense of gratification." Eve arched her eyebrows. "I mean, you have
shown me that I share at least one quality with you: instinctive
resentment of the voice of reason."

She pronounced a plaintive "Mon Dieu!" and appealing to Heaven for
compassion declared: "He means again to wrestle spiritually with me
about the proper disposition of my jewels."

"No, madame: pardon. I am contemplating a long series of exhaustive
arguments designed to prove it your duty to leave your jewels where
they are, in all their noble insecurity. This in the firm belief that
to plead with you long enough to adopt this course will result in your
going and doing otherwise out of sheer..."

"Perversity, monsieur?"

"Humanity, madame!"

Eve de Montalais laughed the charming, low-keyed laugh of a happily
diverted woman.

"But spare yourself, monsieur. I surrender at discretion: I will do as
you wish."