"I ask no favors of you, Madame Morin," she said haltingly.
"No, Madame 'Orton," said Piquette quietly, "but I 'ave give' dem freely, for you—for heem. Perhaps you t'ink dat is not'ing for me to do. La, la. I am only human after all."
So was Moira. Piquette's purposeful ambiguity aroused her curiosity and she turned toward the French girl, her glance passing over her with a new interest.
"I don't understand you, Madame," she said coldly.
"I did not 'ope dat you would. But it is not so difficile. I try to 'elp Monsieur Jeem 'Orton, because 'e 'as taught me what it means to be brave an' fait'ful an' honorable to de one 'e love', an' because you are blind, an' will not see."
"Not so blind that I have not seen what you would have hidden."
"I 'ave not'ing to hide from you, Madame 'Orton. I am proud of de frien'ship of Jeem 'Orton. I would go to de en' of de worl' to make 'im 'appy."
"Friendship!" gasped Moira.
"Or love, Madame," said Piquette gently, "call it what you please."
"And you dare to tell me this—you!"