"There ought to have been one, but he did not come."
"Who?"
"The Citizen Maurice Lindey," said Dixmer, in a tone he endeavored to render indifferent.
"And why did he not come?" said Geneviève, in her turn making a similar effort at self-command.
"He was ill."
"He—ill?"
"Yes, and seriously so. Patriot as you know him to be, he was obliged to cede his turn to another."
"This is most unfortunate."
"But, goodness, Geneviève!" replied Dixmer, "if he had been there, as matters now stand, it might have been just the same. Unfriendly as we are at present, he might perhaps have even avoided speaking to me."
"I think," replied Geneviève, "you exaggerate the unpleasantness of our situation. Monsieur Maurice may have taken a whim not to come here; may have some futile reasons to see us no more,—but is not on that account our enemy. Coolness does not exclude politeness, and I am convinced on seeing you come to him, he would meet you half-way."