"I'm not sorry! "-- and tears upon the small lace gauntlets! She saw them, and with an incoherent exclamation, half self-pitying, half impatient, ran out to the stars above her garden.
She was there for perhaps half an hour, and just before she returned to the house she did a singular thing.
Standing where all was clear to the sky, where she had stood after her talk with the Incroyable, when he had bid her look to the stars, she raised her arms to them again, her face, pale with a great tenderness, uplifted.
"You, you, you!" she whispered.

"I love you!" And yet it was to nothing definite, to no man, nor outline of a man, to no phantom nor dream-lover, that she spoke; neither to him she had affronted, nor to him who had bidden her look to the stars.

Nor was it to the stars themselves.
She returned slowly and thoughtfully to the house, wondering what she had meant..