Another woman was hastily walking in the opposite direction. She bent her head and quickened her steps as if to avoid recognition.
"Why, it is Madeleine!" cried Mlle. Fouchette, throwing herself in the way.
A face stamped with the marks of dissipation and haggard with watching was raised to meet this greeting. The one big, round, dark orb gleamed upon the speaker almost fiercely.
"So you're here again," muttered the one-eyed grisette, in her deep voice.
"It seems so. I wish to find out how he is."
"What business is it of yours?"
"Oh, come, now, Madeleine; you're all upset. You look worn out. You have been here all night?"
"Ah, çà! it is nothing. Have I not been up all night more than once?"
"And monsieur——"
"They say he is better."