I sat up to awaken myself completely. I began to understand, and what I understood was horrible. I restrained a harsh word which had arisen to my lips: abuse is repugnant to me, and I suffer when I insult any one.
"Madame," I simply said, "I am poor."
Laurence burst into a torrent of laughter.
"You call me Madame!" she resumed. "Are you angry? What have I done to you? I know you are poor—you showed me too much respect to be rich. Well, we will be poor."
"I can give you neither gewgaws nor enticing meals."
"Do you think that they have often been given to me? People are not so kind to poor girls! We roll in carriages only in novels. For one who finds a dress ten die of hunger."
"I eat but two very meagre meals a day; together, we could only have one, and that of bread dried that we might consume less of it, with simply water to drink."
"You wish to frighten me. Have you not a father, in Paris or elsewhere, who sends you books and clothes which you afterwards sell? We will eat your hard bread and go to the ball to drink champagne."
"No, I am alone in the world; I work for my living. I cannot associate you with my poverty."
Laurence stopped unlacing her boots. She sat still and thought.