A minute or two later and Jeanne went off with Pierrot for the next dance. M. Spiegel crossed over to Bijou, and asked her for the waltz which was just commencing, but she shook her head, saying:
"I am so tired, if you only knew!"
"Only just a little turn, won't you?" he begged. "Ever since the beginning of the evening I have not been able to get a single waltz with you."
"Oh, no; please don't ask me! I do want to rest; I—" and then, suddenly making up her mind to speak out, she said, "Well, then, no; it isn't that—I know I am not clever at telling untruths—I am not at all tired, but I don't want to waltz with you, because—"
"Because?"
"Because I am afraid of hurting Jeanne's feelings—"
"Hurting Jeanne's feelings! But how?" he asked, in surprise.
"Well, it sounds very vain what I am going to say, but I must tell you all the same. Why, I think that Jeanne worships you to such a degree that she is jealous of everyone who approaches you, or who speaks to you, or who looks at you even!"
M. Spiegel looked displeased; he knitted his brows, and his placid-looking face suddenly took a hard expression.
"She has told you so?"