"Monsieur, do you know Madame Herbaut, who lives on the second floor and has two daughters? The lady to whom I introduced M. Olivier about a fortnight ago, you recollect."
"I don't know her, but you have often spoken to me about her. Well, what of it?"
"I recollect now that one of her particular friends, Madame Laîné, is now in Italy, acting as governess to the daughter of a countess whose name sounds something like Beaumesnil. In fact, it may be this very same countess."
"It may be, I admit, Mother Barbançon. Well, go on."
"And she may have heard about me through Madame Laîné, whom I have met at Madame Herbaut's."
"That, too, is very possible, Madame Barbançon. You will soon know for a certainty, however, as you are going to Madame Beaumesnil's."
"Mon Dieu! monsieur, another idea has just occurred to me."
"Let us hear it," said the veteran, with infinite patience.
"I have told you about that masked lady who—"
"You're not going to tell that story again, surely!" cried the commander, with the evident intention of beating a retreat.