"You are quite right," she said gently, "only plain. Will you show me how to play dominoes?"
"He can't," retorted Madame Joyselle, eagerly, "he has forgotten, and, besides, he cheats."
Joyselle walked to the window, his shoulders shaking, and before the old man could retort, Théo came into the room carrying a lacquered tin tray with a jug of cider and some glasses on it.
"Ah, you have come? Grand-père, grand-mère, what do you think of my fiancée?"
But Brigit drew him away and sat down on the ingeniously uncomfortable sofa with him.
"Fighting again, are they? Poor old dears, it really is quite dreadful. You see, grandfather used to be a fearful tyrant, though he is so little, and grandmother was deathly afraid of him until his health began to fail. So now she is getting even with him. They adore each other, however. Isn't the house quaint? Have you seen the garden?"
She shook her head. "No, show it to me."
Leaving the room they crossed to the oilclothed passage and went into the dining-room, a small apartment enlivened by an oleograph of Leo XIII., and some gay chromos.
The windows opened to the ground, and opening one the young people went out into the moonlight. Brigit was feeling very happy, and therefore very kind. When Théo put his arm round her and drew her to him she did not protest.
"Brigitte," he whispered, "I do so love you."