“You can’t.”
“Then we will go with you.”
“That still less.”
“I know Marguerite,” said Gaston; “I can very well pay her a call.”
“But Armand doesn’t know her.”
“I will introduce him.”
“Impossible.”
We again heard Marguerite’s voice calling to Prudence, who rushed to her dressing-room window. I followed with Gaston as she opened the window. We hid ourselves so as not to be seen from outside.
“I have been calling you for ten minutes,” said Marguerite from her window, in almost an imperious tone of voice.
“What do you want?”