I felt that I ought to say something to her, but I could not find anything. I overtook her just by the street-door, and tried to take her into my arms, but she pushed me violently away, saying in a low, nervous voice:
"Leave me alone, leave me alone!" and so ran out into the street, closing the door behind her.
When I went upstairs again I found that Mme. Kergaran was waiting on the first landing, and I went up slowly, expecting, and ready for, anything.
Her door was open, and she called me in, saying in a severe voice:
"I want to speak to you, M. Kervelen."
I went in, with my head bent. She put her candle on the mantelpiece, and then, folding her arms over her expansive bosom, which a fine white dressing-jacket hardly covered, she said:
"So, Monsieur Kervelen, you think my house is a house of ill-fame?"
I was not at all proud. I murmured:
"Oh, dear, no! But, Mme. Kergaran, you must not be angry; you know what young men are."
"I know," was her answer, "that I will not have such creatures here, so you will understand that. I expect to have my house respected, and I will not have it lose its reputation, you understand me? I know...."