"But my dear child, it is difficult, having regard to my relations with Latonne it is even impossible. Listen! an idea occurs to me: I will look up Professor Mas-Roussel, who is a hundred times better than Black. He will not refuse to come when I ask him."
But she persisted. She wanted Black, and no one else. She required to see him with his big bulldog's head beside her. It was a longing, a wild, superstitious desire. She considered it necessary for him to see her.
Then William attempted to change the current of her thoughts:
"You haven't heard how that intriguer Mazelli carried off Professor Cloche's daughter the other night. They are gone away; nobody can tell where they levanted to. There's a nice story for you!"
She was propped up on her pillow, her eyes strained with grief, and she faltered: "Oh! the poor Duchess—the poor woman—how I pity her!" Her heart had long since learned to understand that other woman's heart, bruised and impassioned! She suffered from the same malady and wept the same tears. But she resumed: "Listen, Will! Go and find M. Black for me. I know I shall die unless he comes!"
Andermatt caught her hand, and tenderly kissed it:
"Come, my little Christiane, be reasonable—understand."
He saw her eyes filled with tears, and, turning toward the Marquis:
"It is you that ought to do this, my dear father-in-law. As for me, I can't do it. Black comes here every day about one o'clock to see the Princess de Maldebourg. Stop him in the passage, and send him in to your daughter. You can easily wait an hour, can you not, Christiane?"
She consented to wait an hour, but refused to get up to breakfast with the men, who passed alone into the dining-room.