“Do you wish the girl to go out with you?” asked Mme. Favoral.
“Oh, it isn’t worth while!”
She ran down the stairs; and once out, regardless of the looks that might be watching her, she walked straight to M. de Tregars, who was waiting on the corner of the Rue des Minimes.
“You are going away?” she said, too much agitated to notice his own emotion, which was, however, quite evident.
“I must,” he answered.
“Oh!”
“When France is invaded, the place for a man who bears my name is where the fighting is.”
“But there will be fighting in Paris too.”
“Paris has four times as many defenders as it needs. It is outside that soldiers will be wanted.”
They walked slowly, as they spoke thus, along the Rue des Minimes, one of the least frequented in Paris; and there were only to be seen at this hour five or six soldiers talking in front of the barracks gate.