"Not a sou—not a centime. I swear it." The girl stamped her foot and threw up her head, reddening with the earnestness of her disclaimer. "What I did, I did from love; and I thought it would not harm mademoiselle, really."
"Nevertheless you might have killed your mistress."
"Alas!"
"Answer me this: Now that your attempt has failed, what will Deschamps do? Will she stop, or will she try something else?"
Yvette shook her head slowly.
"I do not know. She is dangerous. Sometimes she is like a mad woman. You must take care. For myself, I will never see her again."
"You give your word on that?"
"I have said it. There is nothing more to tell you. So, adieu. Say to mademoiselle that I have repented."
She opened the door, and as she did so her eye seemed by chance to catch a small picture which hung by the side of the hearth. My back was to the fireplace, and I did not trouble to follow her glance.