“That’s true. And yet you were already in love with me.”
“Yes.”
“And that didn’t hinder you from going to bed and sleeping quite comfortably. One knows what that sort of love means.”
“There you are mistaken. Do you know what I did that evening, after the Opera Comique?”
“No.”
“I waited for you at the door of the Café Anglais. I followed the carriage in which you and your three friends were, and when I saw you were the only one to get down, and that you went in alone, I was very happy.”
Marguerite began to laugh.
“What are you laughing at?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me, I beg of you, or I shall think you are still laughing at me.”