My confusion was extreme, but she appeared to view it without annoyance.
“I saw you,” she went on, “in one corner of the pit. I knew you instantly and played for you. Say, did I play well? I am so glad to see you again!—”
She asked me news of M. l’Abbé Coignard, and when I told her my good master had just perished miserably, she burst into tears.
She was good enough to inform me of the chief events of her life:
“My aunt,” she said, “used to mend her laces for Madame de Saint-Remi, who, as you must know, is an admirable actress. A short while after the night when you did me such yeoman service, I went to her house to take home some pieces of lace. The lady told me I had a face that interested her. She then asked me to read some verses, and concluded I was not without wits. She had me trained. I made my first appearance at the Comédie last year. I interpret passions I have felt myself, and the public credits me with some talent. M. le Duc de La ——— exhibits a very dear friendship for me, and I think he will never cause me pain and disappointment, because I have learnt to ask of men only what they can give. At this moment he is expecting me at supper. I must not break my word.”
But, reading my vexation in my eyes, she added:
“However, I have told my people to go the longest way round and to drive slowly.”