"And—" asked Geneviève, timidly.
"I look upon this step as indispensable."
"No, no! Dixmer; do not exact this of me."
"You know, Geneviève, I make no exactions of you; I only entreat you. Well, listen; I beseech you to write the Citizen Maurice."
"But—" said Geneviève.
"Hearken!" said Dixmer, interrupting her; "there is between you and Maurice either some serious cause of quarrel,—for, so far as I am concerned, he has had no reason to complain of my conduct toward him,—or some childish disagreement."
Geneviève made no reply.
"If this is merely a silly broil, it is folly to render it lasting; and if you have serious motives for quarrelling, situated as we are, you ought not even to value your dignity or self-respect. We must not place in the balance the quarrels of young people against objects of the highest interest. Make one effort; subdue your own feelings, and write one word only to Maurice Lindey, and he will return."
Geneviève reflected a moment.
"But," said she, "could we not find some means less compromising to renew friendly intercourse between Monsieur Maurice and yourself?"