"What is that?"
"A kind and frank adieu,—the farewell of a friend."
"The farewell of a friend! Oh, Madame, you do me too great an honor. A singular friend, not to know the name of his friend, who even conceals from him where she resides, no doubt from the fear of being too much troubled with his company."
The young woman hung down her head, but did not reply to this sarcasm.
"As to the rest, Madame," continued Maurice, "if I have discovered a secret, I did so involuntarily, and without any effort on my part to do so."
"I have now reached my destination, sir," said the unknown.
They were opposite the old Rue Saint Jacques, lined with tall dark-looking houses, intersected by obscure narrow alleys, leading to streets occupied by manufactories and tanyards, as within two steps ran the little river De Bièvre.
"Here!" said Maurice, "is it here that you live?"
"Yes."