“I shame to say, Madame,” said I, bowing low, “that, in my ignorance of Paris, I have not that honor.”
“Indeed!” cried she, half incredulously.
“It is quite true, Madame; I have been but a few days here, and have no acquaintance whatever.”
They now spoke to each other for a few seconds; and after what seemed strong persuasion, the younger turned away to remove her bonnet.
“We have, then, no right to exact any concession from Monsieur,” said the elder lady, “seeing that we preserve our own secret.”
I could not but assent to this doctrine, and had just acknowledged it, when the younger turned abruptly round, uttering a half cry of amazement.
“Margot!” exclaimed I; for it was she. But already had she buried her face between her hands, and refused to look up.
“What means this?” said the elder, sternly, to me. “Do you know this young lady?”
“I did so, once, Madame,” said I, sorrowfully.
“Well, sir?” replied she, proudly, and as if desiring me to finish my speech.