The marquise reflected for some minutes, and then said, with hesitation.
"Sophie, where is your husband?"
The young woman started, blushed, and turned pale by turns, and exclaimed, impulsively, almost with fear:
"You wish to see him, then?"
"I do not know—if he is—this moment in the factory," replied Madame Dutertre, stammering. "But if you wish it, if you insist upon it, I will send for him, so that he may learn from you yourself all that we owe to you."
The marquise shook her head sadly and replied:
"It is not to receive your husband's thanks that I desire to see him, Sophie; it is only to say farewell to him as well as to you."
"Farewell?"
"This evening I leave Paris."