"Palmyre," began the lady, in a sad tone.
"Momselle Aurore."
"I want you to help me." The former mistress not only cast her hands into her lap, lifted her eyes supplicatingly and dropped them again, but actually locked her fingers to keep them from trembling.
"Momselle Aurore--" began Palmyre, solemnly.
"Now, I know what you are going to say--but it is of no use to say it; do this much for me this one time and then I will let voudou alone as much as you wish--forever!"
"You have not lost your purse again?"
"Ah! foolishness, no."
Both laughed a little, the philosophe feebly, and Aurora with an excited tremor.
"Well?" demanded the quadroon, looking grave again.
Aurora did not answer.