"You are hiding something from me."
"No, no. Why?"
"Because I feel that you are hiding something from me."
"No, no; you are mistaken."
"I am mistaken."
She relapsed into silence. I leaned my head again on the corner of the pillow. Several minutes later she said to me suddenly:
"You go and see him often."
I rose to look at her, seized by fear.
"You go to see him voluntarily," she added. "I know it. To-day..."
"Well?"