"I had better go," remarked George.
"No, no," replied Blanche. "It is just because you are here that I consent to see her. I want you to hear what she says, for I am satisfied that she has come here about the letters. Go in there, and don't come out until I call you." As she spoke, she pushed George into an adjoining boudoir, the entrance of which was screened by a heavy hanging of silken fabric. George let her do so; the curtain fell; and he considered that he had a perfect right to remain thus concealed, and listen to the conversation which was now about to take place. It was, indeed, needful he should know what part these women had really played in an affair which was costing his friend Puymirol so dear. Presently he heard Blanche ask, in a soft voice: "To what am I indebted for the honour of your visit?"
"Can't you guess?" replied Madame de Lescombat, in a quiet tone, at once steady and well modulated.
"No," replied Blanche, curtly, "though I understand very well that your coming must be due to some pressing need of my assistance."
"I require no one's assistance, I assure you. I have simply an explanation to ask of you."
"It must be of a decidedly dangerous nature, for you to take the trouble to come here in person."
"I am in the habit of attending personally to all matters of a personal nature."
"You are quite right, madame. It is always dangerous to write."
There was a pause, and the two rivals exchanged anything but friendly glances. Blanche had somewhat the advantage, however, for she was at home, and the countess, who had called, must speak the first. "We need not waste any more time on preliminaries," she said, quietly. "I came to speak of Pierre Dargental, I admit it. That man betrayed us both, and he has been justly punished. A man cannot trifle with a woman's honour during years with impunity. Chastisement comes sooner or later. Still, I foresee certain misfortunes which may result from his death."
"I do not understand you," replied Blanche, coldly.