She looked at him, and her color rose.
"You always talk of love," she said, half reproachfully, "as if it were so common a thing! You know it is sacred—why will you speak as if it were all a jest?"
A strange emotion of admiring tenderness stirred Pierre's heart—he was very impulsive and impressionable.
"Forgive me!" he murmured penitently. Then he added suddenly, "You should have lived ages ago, ma belle,—the world of to-day will not suit you! You will be made very sorrowful in it, I assure you,—it is not a place for good women!"
She laughed. "You are morose," she said. "That is not like you! No one is good,—we all live to try and make ourselves better."
"What highly moral converse is going on here?" inquired Lorimer, strolling leisurely up to them. "Are you giving Duprèz a lecture, Miss Güldmar? He needs it,—so do I. Please give me a scolding!"
And he folded his hands with an air of demure appeal.
A sunny smile danced in the girl's blue eyes. "Always you will be foolish!" she said. "One can never know you because I am sure you never show your real self to anybody. No,—I will not scold you, but I should like to find you out!"
"To find me out!" echoed Lorimer. "Why, what do you mean?"
She nodded her bright head with much sagacity.