"Still, it is curious," he added, resuming his coffee and rolls, as if the subject were not worth an argument or was too intangible to grasp. He could not account for the change in Mlle. Fouchette.
And if Jean Marot had been very much more of a philosopher than he was he would not have been able to understand the divine process by which human happiness softens and beautifies the human countenance.
"Mon ami," said the girl, seeking to hide the pleasure his admiration gave her, "do you, then, forget what we have to do to-day?"
"Lerouge? Yes,—that's so,—at once!"
Immediately after breakfast Jean sat down and wrote a friendly, frank letter, making a complete and manly apology for his anger and expressing the liveliest sympathy for his old-time friend.
"Tell him, Monsieur Jean, that you have changed your political opinions and——"
"Oh!"
"At least that you'll have nothing more to do with these conspirators."
"But, Fouchette——"
"Last night's discoveries ought to satisfy any reasonable being."