‘You have said you do not wish to hurt me. Years ago, when you were a girl and in the bloom of your beauty, I loved you. “I don’t have time for this. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. A shiver slid down inside her. Then suddenly, in front of all those windows, he folded her in his arms and pressed her to him, and kissed her unresisting face. The comtesse always felt Madame Valade to be not of her class, of course. He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: habit, a twice-told tale.
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