A band of young working girls going out to lunch looked at them and nudged each other.
“Very well!” said Gerald, embarrassed.... “All the same!... you must admit that you have a strange way of....”
“Enough! We shall talk by and by.”
And, while the young count settled himself in the carriage, she told the driver.
“Drive where you like!... To the Bois.... Go towards the Bois.”
They started out. Both were seasoned navigators of Paris, experts in the ways of carriage driving; they pulled down the blinds. Then Zozé cried out:
“Well?”
Then her energy left her and she burst into tears.
“What is the matter?... What is it?... I assure you I do not understand!” Gerald murmured hypocritically, as he stretched out his arm to hold her.
She avoided him with a brusque movement.