"Not easily," returned the delighted lover, "and I excuse you for a piece of bad taste which has rendered me the happiest and proudest of men."
"But we were talking of Madeleine," persisted Bertha; "you know every one whom she knows,—do you not?"
"What, all her patrons? Heaven forbid!"
"No,—no,—you are very tantalizing,—I did not mean those. I mean the persons who visit her: you know them all?"
"Most of them, I believe."
"Then you must be acquainted with this invisible lover of hers!"
Now was M. de Bois puzzled. Bertha saw the advantage she had gained.
"You must have seen him,—you must know all about him,—and I must know also. Not to satisfy my curiosity,—do not imagine that!—I am not in the least curious; but because I want to assist Madeleine. I want to judge whether nothing can be done to bring about her union with him."
"Nothing,—I fear, nothing," replied M. de Bois, sadly.
"Then you do know who he is? There, you have admitted that you did!"