? I didn't mean it, if I did.«
    »I wish you would tell me what you think of them,« said Madame de Cintré.
    »I don't think of any of them but you.«
    »That is because you dislike them. Speak the truth; you can't offend me.«
    »Well, I don't exactly love your brother,« said Newman. »I remember now. But
what is the use of my saying so? I had forgotten it.«
    »You are too good-natured,« said Madame de Cintré, gravely. Then, as if to
avoid the appearance of inviting him to speak ill of the marquis, she turned
away, motioning him to sit down.
    But he remained standing before her and said presently: »What is of much
more importance is that they don't like me.«
    »No - they don't,« she said.
    »And don't you think they are wrong?« Newman asked. »I don't believe I am a
man to dislike.«
    »I suppose that a man who may be liked, may also be disliked. And my brother
- my mother,« she added, »have not made you angry?«
    »Yes, sometimes.«
    »You have never shown it.«
    »So much the better.«
    »Yes, so much the better. They think they have treated you very well.«
    »I have no doubt they might have handled me much more roughly,« said Newman.
»I am much obliged to them. Honestly.«
    »You are generous,« said Madame de Cintré. »It's a disagreeable position.«
    »For them, you mean. Not for me.«
    »For me,« said Madame de Cintré.
    »Not when their sins are forgiven!« said Newman. »They don't think I am as
good as they are. I do. But we shan't quarrel about it.«
    »I can't even agree with you without saying something that has a
disagreeable sound. The presumption was against you. That you probably don't
understand.«
    Newman sat down and looked at her for some time. »I don't think I really
understand it. But when you say it, I believe it.«
    »That's a poor reason,« said Madame de Cintré, smiling.
    »No, it's a very good one. You have a high spirit, a high
