There was a dismissal of the subject in her words, which Vendale could
not contend against. He only said in an earnest manner, "I most heartily
agree with you, Miss Obenreizer, and I have already said so, as Mr.
Obenreizer will bear witness," which he by no means did, "in this house."

Now, Vendale's eyes were quick eyes, and sharply watching Madame Dor by
times, noted something in the broad back view of that lady. There was
considerable pantomimic expression in her glove-cleaning. It had been
very softly done when he spoke with Marguerite, or it had altogether
stopped, like the action of a listener. When Obenreizer's peasant-speech
came to an end, she rubbed most vigorously, as if applauding it. And
once or twice, as the glove (which she always held before her a little
above her face) turned in the air, or as this finger went down, or that
went up, he even fancied that it made some telegraphic communication to
Obenreizer: whose back was certainly never turned upon it, though he did
not seem at all to heed it.

Vendale observed too, that in Marguerite's dismissal of the subject twice
forced upon him to his misrepresentation, there was an indignant
treatment of her guardian which she tried to cheek: as though she would
have flamed out against him, but for the influence of fear. He also
observed--though this was not much--that he never advanced within the
distance of her at which he first placed himself: as though there were
limits fixed between them. Neither had he ever spoken of her without the
prefix "Miss," though whenever he uttered it, it was with the faintest
trace of an air of mockery. And now it occurred to Vendale for the first
time that something curious in the man, which he had never before been
able to define, was definable as a certain subtle essence of mockery that
eluded touch or analysis. He felt convinced that Marguerite was in some
sort a prisoner as to her freewill--though she held her own against those