"Not the least bit in the world. Quite the contrary, in fact, and that was what surprised me so much. When one asks questions of this nature, a request to be frank generally means that you are to lie; while she thanked me in such an earnest and pathetic way for my sincerity that I was really touched, in spite of myself."
"Do you know what I think, M. Olivier? I really believe the poor child must have been very unkindly treated at home. She must have been told a hundred times that she was a monster of ugliness, and, finding herself for the first time in her life with some one she really felt that she could trust, she wanted to know the truth in regard to herself."
"You are probably right, Mlle. Herminie, and what touched me, as it did you, was to see with what gratitude the poor girl welcomed the slightest sign of interest, provided it was sincere."
"Would you believe it, I have seen big tears well up in her eyes more than once this evening, M. Olivier?"
"I, too, somehow fancied that her gaiety concealed a habitual melancholy. She was trying to forget herself, perhaps."
"And then her trade, which unfortunately requires such an expenditure of time and labour, is so unremunerative, poor child! If the trials of poverty should be added to her other troubles—"
"I fear that is only too probable, Mlle. Herminie," said Olivier, feelingly. "She is, indeed, very much to be pitied!"
"Hush, here she comes," said Herminie. Then she added: "But she is putting on her wrap; they must be taking her away."
And in fact, Ernestine, behind whom Madame Laîné was walking with an imposing air, came to the door, and made a slight movement of the head to Herminie as if to indicate that she was leaving with regret.
The duchess hastened to her new friend. "What! you are going already?" she asked.