being as they are, we could not remain friends, neither
could we be lovers."

"Lovers! why not, we are perfectly free."

"I am not free; I am bound by certain prejudices which do not trouble
you."

"I should have thought you were superior to prejudices."

"There are some prejudices which a woman ought to respect. The
superiority you mention is a pitiful thing; always the dupe of itself.
What would become of me, I should like to know, if I abandoned myself to
the feelings I have for you?"

"I was waiting for you to say that, dear Veronique. What you feel for me
is not love. If it were so, you would feel as I do, and you would soon
break the bonds of prejudice."

"I confess that my head is not quite turned yet, but still I feel that I
shall grieve at your departure."

"If so, that is no fault of mine. But tell me what I can do for you
during my short stay here."

"Nothing; we do not know one another well enough."

"I understand you, but I would have you know that I do not intend to
marry any woman who is not my friend."

"You mean you will not marry her till you have ceased to be her lover?"

"Exactly."

"You would like to finish where I would begin."

"You may be happy some day, but you play for high stakes."

"Well, well, it's a case of win all or lose all."

"That's as may be. But without further argument it seems to me that we
could safely enjoy our love, and pass many happy moments undisturbed by
prejudice."

"Possibly, but one gets burnt fingers at that game, and I shudder at the
very thought of it. No, no; leave me alone, there is my sister who will
wonder why I am in your arms."

"Very good; I see I was mistaken, and Rosalie too."

"Why what did she think about me?"

"She wrote and told me that she thought you would be kind."

"I hope she' mayn't have to repent for having been too kind herself."

"Good bye, Veronique."

I felt vexed at having made the trial, for in these matters one always
feels angry at failure. I decided I would leave her and her precepts,
true or false, alone; but when I awoke in the morning and saw her coming
to my bed with a pleasant smile on her face, I suddenly changed my mind.
I had slept upon my anger and I was in love again. I thought she had
repented, and that I should be victorious when I attacked her again. I
put on a smile myself and breakfasted gaily with her and her sister. I
behaved in the same way at dinner; and the general high spirits which M.
de Gr