"Isn't it better to be frank?
She thinks she has reason to feel badly--they all do."
"To feel badly? Because her son wants to marry me?"
"Of course they know that's impossible." Madame de Trezac smiled
compassionately. "But they're afraid of your spoiling his other
chances."
Undine paused a moment before answering, "It won't be impossible when my
marriage is annulled," she said.
The effect of this statement was less electrifying than she had hoped.
Her visitor simply broke into a laugh. "My dear child! Your marriage
annulled? Who can have put such a mad idea into your head?"
Undine's gaze followed the pattern she was tracing with a lustrous nail
on her embroidered bedspread. "Raymond himself," she let fall.
This time there was no mistaking the effect she produced. Madame de
Trezac, with a murmured "Oh," sat gazing before her as if she had
lost the thread of her argument; and it was only after a considerable
interval that she recovered it sufficiently to exclaim: "They'll never
hear of it--absolutely never!"
"But they can't prevent it, can they?"
"They can prevent its being of any use to you."
"I see," Undine pensively assented.
She knew the tone she had taken was virtually a declaration of war; but
she was in a mood when the act of defiance, apart from its strategic
value, was a satisfaction in itself. Moreover, if she could not gain
her end without a fight it was better that the battle should be
engaged while Raymond's ardour was at its height.
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