the expression of her face grew dark in the soft candle-light. Then
looking across at M. de Nueil gravely but not unkindly, she spoke like
a woman who deeply feels the meaning of every word.

"This is all very ridiculous! Once upon a time, monsieur, when
thoughtless high spirits were my privilege, I should have laughed
fearlessly over your visit with you. But now my life is very much
changed. I cannot do as I like, I am obliged to think. What brings you
here? Is it curiosity? In that case I am paying dearly for a little
fleeting pleasure. Have you fallen /passionately/ in love already with
a woman whom you have never seen, a woman with whose name slander has,
of course, been busy? If so, your motive in making this visit is based
on disrespect, on an error which accident brought into notoriety."

She flung her book down scornfully upon the table, then, with a
terrible look at Gaston, she went on: "Because I once was weak, must
it be supposed that I am always weak? This is horrible, degrading. Or
have you come here to pity me? You are very young to offer sympathy
with heart troubles. Understand this clearly, sir, that I would rather
have scorn than pity. I will not endure compassion from any one."

There was a brief pause.

"Well, sir," she continued (and the face that she turned to him was
gentle and sad), "whatever motive induced this rash intrusion upon my
solitude, it is very painful to me, you see. You are too young to be
totally without good feeling, so surely you will feel that this
behavior of yours is improper. I forgive you for it, and, as you see,
I am speaking of it to you without bitterness. You will not come here
again, will you? I am entreating when I might command. If you come to