"Is it to M. de Luceval that I have the honour of speaking?"
"Yes, monsieur."
"I was on my way to your house to tender you both my apologies and my thanks."
"Before accepting either, may I not at least know, monsieur—"
"Who I am? Pardon me, monsieur, for not having told you sooner. I am M. d'Infreville, so my name is not unknown to you, I think."
"We have several mutual friends, I think," replied M. de Luceval, "and I congratulate myself upon my good fortune in meeting you personally, monsieur. But we are only a short distance from my house, and if you will return with me—"
"I could not think of giving you that trouble, monsieur. Besides, to tell the truth, I should be almost afraid to meet Madame de Luceval."
"And why, monsieur?"
"The fact is, I have wronged madame so deeply, monsieur, that I must beg you to make my excuses to her before I have the honour to be presented to her."
"Pardon me," said Florence's husband, more and more mystified, "but I really do not understand—"