"Won't you give it to me now that I may know in the future?"
"We are going to move—It would be useless—it is not decided where we go yet."
I knew I dared not insist.
"Is there some place where I could be certain of a message reaching you then? because I would have asked you to come to the flat to-day and not out here if I could have found you."
She was silent for a moment. I could see she was in a corner—I felt an awful brute but I had said it all quite naturally as any employer would who was quite unaware that there could be any reluctance to give the information, and I felt it was better to continue in this strain not to render her suspicious.
After a second or two she gave the number of a stationer's shop in the Avenue Mosart—.
"I pass there every day," she said.
I thanked her—.
"I hope you did not hurry back to your work—I can't bear to think that perhaps you would have wished to remain at home now."
"No, it does not matter"—There was an infinite weariness in her tone—A hopeless flatness I had never heard before, it moved me so that I blurted out—.