"Where?"
"It matters not where; for a drive, for instance. You can lower the shade on your side and you will be well concealed."
"Yes, I should like that better; I shall die of fear here."
"Very well, meet me in five minutes at the gate which opens on the boulevard. I will fetch a cab."
When they were seated in the cab, she asked: "Where did you tell the coachman to drive to?"
Georges replied: "Do not worry; he knows."
He had given the man his address on the Rue de Constantinople.
Mme. Walter said to Du Roy: "You cannot imagine how I suffer on your account—how I am tormented, tortured. Yesterday I was harsh, but I wanted to escape you at any price. I was afraid to remain alone with you. Have you forgiven me?"
He pressed her hand. "Yes, yes, why should I not forgive you, loving you as I do?"
She looked at him with a beseeching air: "Listen: You must promise to respect me, otherwise I could never see you again."