"I know why you looked so conscious just now; you were thinking of the gossip about that actress—I've forgotten her name—whom M. de Bernès knows. I had not thought of it at the time, and so it did not trouble me. You see I was right when I told you that it was a mistake to listen to Mère Rafut's tales."
"Yes, you always are right!" answered Jeanne pensively; "I said then that you are always right!"
After Bijou's departure, the men one after another left the drawing-room.
"What's the matter, Bertrade?" asked the marchioness, as soon as she found herself alone with Madame de Rueille. "Paul looked very queer during breakfast!"
"Did you think so?" said the young wife, not wishing either to acknowledge it or to tell an untruth about the matter.
"I did think so, and you looked queer too; and as I watched you both, an idea dawned upon me."
"And what is this idea?"
"It is that my dear little Marcel is no more ill than I am, and that the letter you showed me this morning is nothing but a pretext for getting your husband away from here; is that so?"
Madame de Rueille was too straightforward to be able to deny the fact.