"What do you mean?"
"I mean it is well my mother is ill, and doesn't wish to eat, for there would be nothing for her, if she did."
"I have had nothing to eat since yesterday morning, and then only a biscuit with a glass of water."
"My poor girl, we won't say anything more about chaperons. Come along with me to Ciro's this instant, to lunch, and tell me everything."
He was completely won over now, and looked very handsome, with a slight flush on his brown face, and his dark eyes bright with excitement.
The girl lowered her long lashes, perhaps to hide tears.
When she did this, and drooped the corners of her mouth, she was very engaging, and the young man tingled all over with pity. That poor, pretty creature, starving, in her charming pink dress and hat of roses. How strange life was! It was something to be thankful for that he had met her.
A little while ago, he had walked through the Galerie Charles Trois, thinking how delightful the tables looked at Ciro's, and making up his mind to return there for lunch. But afterwards, on the terrace, he had been so miserable that he would probably have forgotten all about his plan, if it had not been for the girl.
Now, he chose a small table in a corner of the balcony, close to the glass screen. A month later, he might have had to engage it long beforehand; but to-day, though the place was well filled with pretty women and their attendant men, there was not a crowd, and he could listen to his companion's low-voiced confidences without fear of being overheard.