temptation."

"May it not be rather unkind to temptation?" she suggested, raising her
marvellous eyes.

De Fronsac drew a step back. "Also I have had a great deal to do," he
added formally; "I am a busy man. For example, much as I should like to
converse with you now.--" But his resolution forsook him and he was
unable to say that he had looked in only for a minute.

"Much as you would like to converse with me--?" questioned Florozonde.

"I ought, by rights, to be seated at my desk," he concluded lamely.

"I am pleased that you are not seated at your desk," she said.

"Because?" murmured de Fronsac, with unspeakable emotions.

"Because I have never thanked you enough for your interest in me, and I
want to tell you that I remember." She gave him her hand. He held it,
battling with terror.

"Mademoiselle," he returned tremulously, "when I wrote the causerie you
refer to, my interest in you was purely the interest of a journalist,
so for that I do not deserve your thanks. But since I have had the
honour to meet you I have experienced an interest altogether different;
the interest of a man, of a--a--" Here his teeth chattered, and he
paused.

"Of a what?" she asked softly, with a dreamy air.