“You don’t know?” She turned to consider him. “And you can say it with that indifference! I thought... I thought you loved her, Andre.” “So did I, for a little while. I was mistaken. It required a La Tour d’Azyr to disclose the truth to me. They have their uses, these gentlemen. They help stupid fellows like myself to perceive important truths. I was fortunate that revelation in my case preceded marriage. I can now look back upon the episode with equanimity and thankfulness for my near escape from the consequences of what was no more than an aberration of the senses. It is a thing commonly confused with love. The experience, as you see, was very instructive.” She looked at him in frank surprise. “Do you know, Andre, I sometimes think that you have no heart.” “Presumably because I sometimes betray intelligence. And what of yourself, Aline? What of your own attitude from the outset where M. de La Tour d’Azyr is concerned? Does that show heart? If I were to tell you what it really shows, we should end by quarrelling again, and God knows I can’t afford to quarrel with you now. I... I shall take another way.” “What do you mean?” “Why, nothing at the moment, for you are not in any danger of marrying that animal.” “And if I were?” “Ah! In that case affection for you would discover to me some means of preventing it--unless...” He paused. “Unless?” she demanded, challengingly, drawn to the full of her short height, her eyes imperious. “Unless you could also tell me that you loved him,” said he simply, whereat she was as suddenly and most oddly softened. And then he added, shaking his head: “But that of course is impossible.” “Why?” she asked him, quite gently now. “Because you are what you are, Aline--utterly good and pure and adorable. Angels do not mate with devils. His wife you might become, but never his mate, Aline--never.” They had reached the wrought-iron gates at the end of the avenue. Through these they beheld the waiting yellow chaise which had brought Andre-Louis. From near at hand came the creak of other wheels, the beat of other hooves, and now another vehicle came in sight, and drew to a stand-still beside the yellow chaise--a handsome equipage with polished mahogany panels on which the gold and azure of armorial bearings flashed brilliantly in the sunlight. A footman swung to earth to throw wide the gates; but in that moment the lady who occupied the carriage, perceiving Aline, waved to her and issued a command. CHAPTER V. MADAME DE PLOUGASTEL The postilion drew rein, and the footman opened the door, letting down the steps and proffering his arm to his mistress to assist her to alight, since that was the wish she had expressed. Then he opened one wing of the iron gates, and held it for her. She was a woman of something more than forty, who once must have been very lovely, who was very lovely still with the refining quality that age brings to some women. Her dress and carriage alike advertised great rank.