"And if I thought I was keeping a promise to--to you, I'd not break it.

Will you ask me to promise ?" he persisted, watching her intently.
"Why, of course," she answered kindly, almost gently; the compliment was so real, he could not be all bad.
"Then say my name, and ask me," he said.
"Monsieur--" "Leave out the monsieur," he interrupted.
"Yves Savary dit Detricand, will you promise me, Guida Landresse--" "De Landresse," he interposed courteously.
"-- Guida Landresse de Landresse, that you will never again drink wine to excess, and that you will never do anything that"-- she paused confused.
"That you would not wish me to do," he said in a low voice.
"That I should not wish you to do," she repeated in a half-embarrassed way.
"On my honour I promise," he said slowly.
A strange feeling came over her.

She had suddenly, in some indirect, allusive way, become interested in a man's life.

Yet she had done nothing, and in truth she cared nothing.

They stood looking at each other, she slightly embarrassed, he hopeful and eager, when suddenly a step sounded without, a voice called "Guida!" and as Guida coloured and Detricand turned towards the door, Philip d'Avranche entered impetuously.
He stopped short on seeing Detricand.