“Well, tell the duke to take it for you; he would do so, I am sure. I’ll see about it if you like.”
Marguerite looked at me, as if to ask me what I thought. My dream vanished at the last words of Prudence, and brought me back to reality so brutally that I was still stunned with the fall.
“Yes, yes, an excellent idea,” I stammered, not knowing what I was saying.
“Well, I will arrange that,” said Marguerite, freeing my hand, and interpreting my words according to her own desire. “Let us go and see if it is to let.”
The house was empty, and to let for two thousand francs.
“Would you be happy here?” she said to me.
“Am I sure of coming here?”
“And for whom else should I bury myself here, if not for you?”
“Well, then, Marguerite, let me take it myself.”
“You are mad; not only is it unnecessary, but it would be dangerous. You know perfectly well that I have no right to accept it save from one man. Let me alone, big baby, and say nothing.”