"Because she gathered that I thought she ought to wait for an invitation
from you, before she went to your house."

"She should wait till the Day of Judgment!" cried the duchess.

"That would not matter," observed the Mother Superior dryly.

Suddenly, without pretext or excuse, the duchess turned and walked very
quickly--nay, she almost ran--away along the path that encircled the group
of graves. Her eye had bidden me, and I followed no less briskly. I heard
a despairing sigh from the poor old lady, but she had no chance of
overtaking us. The audacious movement was successful.

"Now we can talk," said the duchess.

And talk she did, for she threw at me the startling assertion:

"I believe you're falling in love with Mlle. Delhasse. If you do, I'll
never speak to you again!"

"If I do," said I, "I shall probably accept that among the other
disadvantages of the entanglement."

"That's very rude," observed the duchess.

"Nothing with an 'if' in it is rude," said I speciously.

"Men must be always in love with somebody," said she resentfully.