 to go to Leubronn,« said Grandcourt, taking no
notice of the troubles, on which Gwendolen - she hardly knew why - wished that
there should be a clear understanding at once. »You must have known that it
would spoil everything: you knew you were the heart and soul of everything that
went on. Are you quite reckless about me?«
    It was impossible to say »yes« in a tone that would be taken seriously;
equally impossible to say »no;« but what else could she say? In her difficulty,
she turned down her eyelids again and blushed over face and neck. Grandcourt saw
her in a new phase, and believed that she was showing her inclination. But he
was determined that she should show it more decidedly.
    »Perhaps there is some deeper interest? Some attraction - some engagement -
which it would have been only fair to make me aware of? Is there any man who
stands between us?«
    Inwardly the answer framed itself, »No; but there is a woman.« Yet how could
she utter this? Even if she had not promised that woman to be silent, it would
have been impossible for her to enter on the subject with Grandcourt. But how
could she arrest this wooing by beginning to make a formal speech - »I perceive
your intention - it is most flattering, &c.«? A fish honestly invited to come
and be eaten has a clear course in declining, but how if it finds itself
swimming against a net? And apart from the network, would she have dared at once
to say anything decisive? Gwendolen had not time to be clear on that point. As
it was, she felt compelled to silence, and after a pause, Grandcourt said -
    »Am I to understand that some one else is preferred?«
    Gwendolen, now impatient of her own embarrassment, determined to rush at the
difficulty and free herself. She raised her eyes again and said with something
of her former clearness and defiance, »No« - wishing him to understand, »What
then? I may not be ready to take you.« There was nothing that Grandcourt could
not understand which he perceived likely to affect his amour propre.
    »The last thing I would do, is to importune you. I should not hope to win
you by making myself a bore. If there were no hope for me, I would ask you to
tell me so at once, that I might just ride away to - no matter where.«
    Almost to her own astonishment, Gwendolen felt a sudden alarm at the image
of Grandcourt
