She went on, as he did not reply: "Well, come tell me what is it."
He murmured, hesitatingly: "Well, you see—but I really dare not—I was working last night very late and quite early this morning on the article upon Algeria, upon which Monsieur Walter asked me to write, and I could not get on with it—I tore up all my attempts. I am not accustomed to this kind of work, and I came to ask Forestier to help me this once—"
She interrupted him, laughing heartily. "And he told you to come and see me? That is a nice thing."
"Yes, madame. He said that you will get me out of my difficulty better than himself, but I did not dare, I did not wish to—you understand."
She rose, saying: "It will be delightful to work in collaboration with you like that. I am charmed at the notion. Come, sit down in my place, for they know my hand-writing at the office. And we will knock you off an article; oh, but a good one."
He sat down, took a pen, spread a sheet of paper before him, and waited.
Madame Forestier, standing by, watched him make these preparations, then took a cigarette from the mantel-shelf, and lit it.
"I cannot work without smoking," said she. "Come, what are you going to say?"
He lifted his head towards her with astonishment.
"But that is just what I don't know, since it is that I came to see you about."