“Then they cannot have reached Malincourt. Oh, I wonder what they will do to us,” cried Lucette.
“I know how I would punish you were I the judge.”
“I would trust you,” she smiled.
“You wouldn’t like the punishment any more than I like the results of your act.” His tone was half earnest half jest; and she looked up puzzled.
“What is my crime?”
“You have given us splendid help in many ways; but I’m sadly out if our last mischances are not to be traced to that habit of yours—of making fools of us men.”
“Sadly out! I’m sadly out if you did not say that with a rare spice of relish. Sadly, indeed! Is this one of M. Burgher’s curtain lectures?”
“If you were still Madame Burgher, it might be,” he laughed.
“But I’ve gone back to Lucette, thank you, monsieur.”
“Aye, the Lucette whom the officer at the gate recognized.”