"I should not like to be pitied by you!" he said, and the expression of his face betrayed deep suffering.
"You do not care for me, then?" she asked.
M. de Clagny made a movement forward, then stopping himself, he said, with a calmness that contrasted strangely with the troubled look in his eyes and his hoarse voice:
"Oh, yes; I do care for you. I care for you very much, indeed." And then picking up his hat, which he had put down on one of the tables, he moved quickly towards the door, which led on to the terrace. "I will wait in the park," he said, "until the marchioness can see me."
When he saw, however, that Bijou had left the drawing-room, he returned, and sank down on a chair, looking suddenly much older from the effect of some mental anxiety which was weighing on him.
The marchioness did not keep him waiting long. She entered the room, with a smile on her face.
"Well, you are an early visitor!" she began; but on seeing the worried look on her old friend's face, she asked anxiously: "Why, what is it? Whatever has happened?"
"A great misfortune."
"Tell me?"
"It is precisely for that I have come so early. You will remember that when I came here for the first time, a fortnight ago, I was admiring Bijou, and you reminded me of the fact that she was your grand-daughter, and might very well be mine?"