“That will account to you for the unreserved manner which you observed between me and Eugénie, as in speaking of the man whom I could not love, my thoughts involuntarily reverted to him on whom my affections were fixed.”
“Ah, how good you are to say so, Valentine! You possess a quality which can never belong to Mademoiselle Danglars. It is that indefinable charm which is to a woman what perfume is to the flower and flavor to the fruit, for the beauty of either is not the only quality we seek.”
“It is your love which makes you look upon everything in that light.”
“No, Valentine, I assure you such is not the case. I was observing you both when you were walking in the garden, and, on my honor, without at all wishing to depreciate the beauty of Mademoiselle Danglars, I cannot understand how any man can really love her.”
“The fact is, Maximilian, that I was there, and my presence had the effect of rendering you unjust in your comparison.”
“No; but tell me—it is a question of simple curiosity, and which was suggested by certain ideas passing in my mind relative to Mademoiselle Danglars—”
“I dare say it is something disparaging which you are going to say. It only proves how little indulgence we may expect from your sex,” interrupted Valentine.
“You cannot, at least, deny that you are very harsh judges of each other.”
“If we are so, it is because we generally judge under the influence of excitement. But return to your question.”
“Does Mademoiselle Danglars object to this marriage with M. de Morcerf on account of loving another?”