"Because I was quite certain that he cared for me very little or not at all," answered Jeanne, speaking very calmly, but not looking at Bijou, "and so I told him this morning that I did not feel equal to accepting the life of misery which I foresaw, and that I gave him back his liberty."
"Good heavens, is it possible—and you do not regret anything?"
"Nothing! I am very wretched, but my mind is more easy."
Bijou looked straight into her eyes as she asked:
"And it is—it is because of me, isn't it? it is because of M. Spiegel's manner towards me that you broke it all off?" Jeanne nodded, and Bijou went on: "And so you really thought that your fiancé was making love to me?"
"Oh, as to making love to you, no, perhaps not—but he certainly cares for you."
"And what then?"
"What do you mean by what then?"
"Well, what would be the end of that for him?"
"Well, it would cause him to suffer; and who knows, he might have hoped—?"