scruples, clear-sighted and admirably courageous, and indubitably
enemies of society.

"I don't understand," I said. "But de Mersch then?"

She made a little gesture; one of those movements that I best remember
of her; the smallest, the least noticeable. It reduced de Mersch to
nothing; he no longer even counted.

"Oh, as for him," she said, "he is only a detail." I had still the idea
that she spoke with a pitying intonation--as if she were speaking to a
dog in pain. "He doesn't really count; not really. He will crumble up
and disappear, very soon. You won't even remember him."

"But," I said, "you go about with him, as if you.... You are getting
yourself talked about.... Everyone thinks--" ... The accusation that I
had come to make seemed impossible, now I was facing her. "I believe," I
added, with the suddenness of inspiration. "I'm certain even, that _he_
thinks that you ..."

"Well, they think that sort of thing. But it is only part of the game.
Oh, I assure you it is no more than that."

I was silent. I felt that, for one reason or another, she wished me to
believe.

"Yes," she said, "I want you to believe. It will save you a good deal of
pain."

"If you wanted to save me pain," I maintained, "you would have done with