Hesitating to question her directly, disliking her from that moment, and feeling her heart shrink at her loneliness when such crushing odds were threatening her, she donned her "company smile" and went to the sitting-room bravely.
CHAPTER XIX.
THE COMPACT.
Luncheon was served and M. Cantagnac, seated comfortably, was trying the delicacies with rare conscientiousness about any escaping his harpoon-like fork. Césarine did not give him a second look and neither he nor Clemenceau, with whom he was chatting on politics, more than glanced up at her. M. Daniels was more polite, for he warmly accepted a second cup of coffee as soon as she, without any attempt to displace Mademoiselle Daniels at the urn, took her place beside her.
"Pray go on and attend to the liquors," she said kindly. "I am so nervous that I am afraid I shall break something."
She took a seat which placed her on the left of the old Jew. A little familiarity was only in keeping when two theatrical artists met.
"What is the matter with your daughter? she seems sad," she remarked with apparent interest.
"That is natural enough when we are going away from France, it may be forever."
"Going away from here?" inquired Madame Clemenceau.