She supposed that all mothers called
their children fools when they were angry. It was one of the
privileges of motherhood.
The discussion ended there, for Sabina presently went away and shut
herself up in her room, leaving her mother to meditate in solitude on
the incredible difficulties that surrounded her.
Sabina was thinking, too, but her thoughts ran in quite another
direction, as she sat bolt upright on a straight-backed chair, staring
at the wall opposite. She was wondering how Malipieri looked at that
moment, and how it was possible that she should not even have seen him
since she had left his rooms with the Baroness a week ago, and more;
and why, when every hour had dragged like an age, it seemed as if they
had parted only yesterday, sure to meet again.
She sat still a long time, trying to think out a future for herself, a
future life without Malipieri and yet bearable. It would have been
easy before the night in the vaults; it would have seemed possible a
week ago, though very hard; now, it was beyond her imagination. She
had talked of entering a sisterhood, but she knew that she did not
mean to do it, even if her reputation were ruined.
She guessed that in that event her mother would try to force her into
a convent. The Princess was not the sort of woman who would devote the
rest of her life to consoling her disgraced daughter, no matter how
spotlessly blameless the girl might be.
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