An ironical smile curled the lip of Eugénie. “In truth, I was fated,” said she. “I escaped the Morcerf only to fall into the Cavalcanti.”

“Oh, do not confound the two, Eugénie.”

“Hold your tongue! The men are all infamous, and I am happy to be able now to do more than detest them⁠—I despise them.”

“What shall we do?” asked Louise.

“What shall we do?”

“Yes.”

“Why, the same we had intended doing three days since⁠—set off.”

“What?⁠—although you are not now going to be married, you intend still⁠—”