"When did you come home?"
"Late."
"But when?"
"At one o'clock. Ma perché?"
She was leaning over the small table which held her tools and feeling about amongst them.
"I only wanted to know. We went to bed very late last night. We had a visitor, a cousin of mine, and there was a great deal of smoking and talking; it gave me a dreadful headache, and I went into the garden for an hour. Will you sit any longer, or shall we give it up? I dare say it is difficult, and you seem tired."
"No, no," he murmured.
He placed himself again in the attitude, but not so well as before. His brain was full of bewildering thoughts, which made his heart beat.
"When did you come home?"
"I was in the garden for an hour."