"Be so good as to mention a few," he said, as we walked on.
"You are not sure of her yourself," I began.
"Never mind that—go on with your analogy."
"That's a part of it. You are very much in love with her."
"That's a part of it too, I suppose?"
"Yes, as I have told you before. You are in love with her, and yet you can't make her out; that's just where I was with regard to Madame de Salvi."
"And she too was an enchantress, an actress, an artist, and all the rest of it?"
"She was the most perfect coquette I ever knew, and the most dangerous, because the most finished."
"What you mean, then, is that her daughter is a finished coquette?"
"I rather think so."
Stanmer walked along for some moments in silence.
"Seeing that you suppose me to be a—a great admirer of the Countess," he said at last, "I am rather surprised at the freedom with which you speak of her."
