"Much younger, my lady."
"There would be no sense in the matter otherwise; anyone might guess that he was young and handsome and fascinating. Well, as I was about to say--I hope you will forgive me for flying off as I do; my head gets so full of ideas that they tumble over one another--all at once this M. Gabriel drops clean out of the story, and we hear nothing more of him. If there is one thing more inexplicable than another in the affair, it is that nothing more should be heard of M. Gabriel."
"We live out of the gay world, my lady; far removed from it, I am happy to think. It is not at all strange that in this quiet village we should not know what became of him."
"That is assuming that M. Gabriel went back into the gay world, as you call it, which is not such a bad place, I assure you, Mother Denise."
"He could not have stopped in the village, my lady, without its being known."
"Probably not; but, you dear old soul!" said Adelaide, her manner becoming more animated as that of Mother Denise became more frigid, "you dear old soul, they always come back! When lovers are dismissed, as M. Gabriel was, they always come back. They think they never will--they vow they never will--but they cannot help themselves. They are not their own masters. It is the story of the moth and the candle over again."
"You mean, my lady," said Mother Denise, very gravely, "that M. Gabriel returned to the villa."
"That is my meaning exactly. What else could he do?"
"I will not say whether I am glad or sorry to disappoint you, my lady, but M. Gabriel, after the summer-house was barred up, never made his appearance again in the village."
"Of course, under the circumstances, he could not show himself to everybody. It was necessary that he should be cautious. He had to come quietly--secretly, if you like."