"And you went up in the air?"
"That was it," she answered, laughing.
"Are you hurt?"
"Not the least bit in the world!" And then she added pensively: "It's very nice of you to trouble about me, and all the more so as you do not like me, I know."
Hubert de Bernès turned as red as a tomato.
"Oh, mademoiselle, how can you think—"
"I do think so—"
"Well, but," he began, in an anxious voice, "tell me at least whatever makes you imagine such a thing?"
"Oh, everything and nothing; it would take too long to explain. Well, this morning, for instance, when I asked you to go with us to the theatre, you looked quite annoyed, and you refused; oh, yes—out and out. Well, why did you refuse?"
"But, mademoiselle, I—I assure you—"