"Think how little I know you." "Very little, of course, and therefore I don't ask for your ultimatum on the spot.

I only ask you not to say no, and to let me hope.

I will wait as long as you desire.

Meanwhile you can see more of me and know me better, look at me as a possible husband--as a candidate--and make up your mind." Something was going on, rapidly, in Madame de Cintre's thoughts; she was weighing a question there, beneath Newman's eyes, weighing it and deciding it.

"From the moment I don't very respectfully beg you to leave the house and never return," she said, "I listen to you, I seem to give you hope.