"I beg your pardon, mademoiselle, I—I don't know what is the matter with me."
"Nor I either; I can't tell at all," she said, laughing.
He was getting up from the piano, but she begged him to sit down again.
"No! if you don't mind," she said, "I should like to work up two or three old songs."
She began at once to read at sight, bending over in order to see better, whilst the poor young man, who was now pale, did his best to follow her, in spite of the buzzing in his ears and the clamminess of his fingers.
When the lesson was over, Bijou went to fetch her hat, and then came back and put it on at the glass near the piano.
Instead of putting his violin into its case, M. Sylvestre stood watching her as she lifted her arms, and drew her pretty figure up with a graceful swaying movement.
"Be quick!" she said, "we are going to take you back to Pont-sur-Loire, or rather M. de Clagny, one of our friends, is going to take you on his coach." Denyse saw that he did not understand, so she went on to explain: "It's a large carriage, and holds a good number of people."
"Are you going, too?" he asked excitedly.
"I am going, too—yes, Monsieur Sylvestre."