"Eh? at about the same time."
"A fortnight later," said Nanon.
"A fortnight later; it's very possible."
"It is a sad thing for me to disclose another woman's shame, to divulge a secret which belongs to us alone, you understand. But your extraordinary jealousy drives me to it, your cruelty leaves me no alternative. I am like you, Monsieur le Duc, I lack generosity."
"Go on, go on!" cried the duke, beginning to yield to the fair Gasconne's imaginative flights.
"Very good; my father was an attorney of some note. Twenty-eight years ago he was still young, and he was always fine-looking. Before his marriage he was in love with Monsieur de Canolles' mother, whose hand was denied him because she was of noble blood, and he a plebeian. Love undertook the task of remedying the mistakes of nature, as it often does; and during Monsieur de Canolles, the elder's, absence from home—Now do you understand?"
"Yes; but how does it happen that this affection for Monsieur de Canolles took possession of you so recently?"
"Because I never knew of the bond between us until my father's death; because the secret was made known to me in a letter handed me by the baron himself, who then addressed me as his sister."
"Where is that letter?" queried the duke.
"Have you forgotten the fire which consumed everything I owned,—all my most valuable jewels and papers?"