The Duke was sitting in Madame Goesler's drawing-room, at some
distance from her, for she had retreated. The Duke had a habit
of taking her hand, which she never would permit for above a few
seconds. At such times she would show no anger, but would retreat.
"Marie," said the Duke, "you will go abroad when the summer is over."
As an old man he had taken the privilege of calling her Marie, and
she had not forbidden it.
Yes, probably; to Vienna. I have property in Vienna you know, which
must be looked after.
"Do not mind Vienna this year. Come to Italy."
"What; in summer, Duke?"
"The lakes are charming in August. I have a villa on Como which is
empty now, and I think I shall go there. If you do not know the
Italian lakes, I shall be so happy to show them to you."
"I know them well, my lord. When I was young I was on the Maggiore
almost alone. Some day I will tell you a history of what I was in
those days."
"You shall tell it me there."
"No, my lord, I fear not. I have no villa there."
"Will you not accept the loan of mine? It shall be all your own while
you use it."
"My own,--to deny the right of entrance to its owner?"
"If it so pleases you."
"It would not please me. It would so far from please me that I will
never put myself in a position that might make it possible for me to
require to do so.
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