I implored her to tell me what it was.
“Come, now! come, tell me; I promise you that I will not laugh. I swear it to you—come, now!”
She hesitated. I took her hands—those poor little hands, so thin and so cold!—and I kissed them one after the other, several times, as her lovers had once kissed them. She was moved and hesitated.
“You promise me not to laugh?”
“Yes, I swear it to you.”
“Well, then, come.”
She rose, and as the little domestic, awkward in his green livery, removed the chair behind her, she whispered quickly a few words into his ear.
“Yes, madame, at once,” he replied.
She took my arm and led me to the veranda.
The avenue of oranges was really splendid to see. The full moon made a narrow path of silver, a long bright line, which fell on the yellow sand, between the round, opaque crowns of the dark trees.