“You see how I love you!” said Mme. de Burne. “You are to dine with me this evening, and still I could not help coming to see you. It is a real passion, my dear.”
“A passion that I share,” the Swede replied with a smile.
Following the habit of their profession, they put each her best foot foremost for the benefit of the other; coquettish as if they had been dealing with a man, but with a different style of coquetry, for the strife was different, and they had not before them the adversary, but the rival.
Madame de Burne had kept looking at the clock during the conversation. It was on the point of striking five. He had been waiting there an hour. “That is long enough,” she said to herself as she arose.
“So soon?” said the Princess.
“Yes,” the other unblushingly replied. “I am in a hurry
