"Aline!" It was the Countess who spoke. She knew the danger of
half-discoveries. "I can trust you, child, I know, and Andre-Louis,
I am sure, will offer no objection." She had taken up the letter
to show it to Aline. Yet first her eyes questioned him.
"Oh, none, madame," he assured her. "It is entirely a matter for
yourself."
Aline looked from one to the other with troubled eyes, hesitating
to take the letter that was now proffered. When she had read it
through, she very thoughtfully replaced it on the table. A moment
she stood there with bowed head, the other two watching her. Then
impulsively she ran to madame and put her arms about her.
"Aline!" It was a cry of wonder, almost of joy. "You do not
utterly abhor me!"
"My dear," said Aline, and kissed the tear-stained face that seemed
to have grown years older in these last few hours.
In the background Andre-Louis, steeling himself against emotionalism,
spoke with the voice of Scaramouche.
"It would be well, mesdames, to postpone all transports until they
can be indulged at greater leisure and in more security.
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