"You are a noble friend, Gaston. We are agreed then?"
"At the slightest suspicion write to me."
"Write! You leave me then?"
"I must go to Paris on business. I shall be at the hotel Muids d'Amour, Rue des Bourdonnais. Write down this address, and do not show it to any one."
"Why so many precautions?"
Gaston hesitated.
"Because, if your devoted protector were known, his plans for aiding you might be frustrated in case of bad intentions."
"You are somewhat mysterious, Gaston. I have a father who conceals himself, and a lover—this word I can hardly speak—who is going to do the same."
"But my intentions, you know," said Gaston, attempting to force a laugh.
"Ah, Madame Desroches is coming back. She thinks our interview too long. I am as much under tutelage as at the convent."