On the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth days, she passed him with a bow
and a good-morning.
'This is too much!' he groaned, in the silence of his chamber. 'She's
doing it with malice. I'll not be trifled with. I--I'll do something
desperate. I'll pretend to faint, and she'll have to get down and
bandage up my wounds.'
On the thirteenth day, as they met, she stopped her horse.
'You're at least typically English in one respect,' she said.
'Oh, unkind lady! To announce it to me in this sudden way. Then my
life's a failure.'
'I mean in your fondness for long walks.'
'Ah, then you're totally in error. I hate long walks.'
'But it's a good ten kilometres to and from your house; and you do it
every morning.'
'That's only because there aren't any omnibuses or cabs or things.
And' (he reminded himself that if she was that sort, he might be bold)
'I'm irresistibly attracted here.'
'It's very pretty,' she admitted, and rode on.
He looked after her, grinding his teeth. _Was_ she that sort? 'One
never can tell. Her face is so fine--so noble even.'
The next day, 'Yes, I suppose it's very pretty. But I wasn't thinking
of Nature,' he informed her, as she approached.
She drew up.
'Oh, it has its human interest too, no doubt.' She glanced in the
direction of the Château of Granjolaye.
'The Queen,' said he. 'But one never sees her.'
'That adds the charm of mystery, don't you feel? To think of that poor
young exiled woman, after so grand a beginning, ending so
desolately--shut up alone in her mysterious castle! It's like a
legend.'
'Then you're not of her Court?'
'I? Of her Court? _Mais quelle idée_!'
'It was only a hypothesis. Of course, you know I'm devoured by
curiosity. My days are spent in wondering who you are.'
She laughed. 'You must have a care, or you'll be typical,' she warned
him.
'I never said I wasn't human,' he called after her, as she cantered
away.