"No, ma chère. Report has left her out—fortunately for our cousin. But she was there all the same. I happen to know the true version, and I am willing to share it with you."
"I am not quite sure," said Avoye, considering her, "that you always know what truth is, Eulalie."
"You are frank—quite like Tante Athénaïs for once—merci! But I do know; it is others, you will find, who have tampered with it. Ah, my dear Avoye, with your little white ingénue's mind . . . if you knew!"
"Please drop these hints, Eulalie, and tell me straight out what you mean!"
"With pleasure," replied Mme de Morsan, arranging her mantle. "Ask Aymar, then, whether he did not really send his famous letter to the enemy as the price of a woman's life!"
"Absurd!" exclaimed Mme de Villecresne, now thoroughly roused. "I wonder you have not more sense!"
Eulalie smiled sweetly. "Oh, I know why you are angry. You think that there is only one woman in the world for whom Aymar would do such a thing."
"Aymar would not do a thing like that for any woman!"
"Again the ingénue! Ask him!"
"Indeed I shall not!" cried Avoye contemptuously.