“What!” said Yvonne, “cross Paris all alone? You wouldn’t think of it!”
“But I do it!”
“That is true,” Yvonne said, blushing.
They were speaking in a low tone; the others were not listening, but surrounded Miss Rozenkrantz.
“What is more natural than to go about alone?” Ethel said to Yvonne. “What harm is there, voyons? You slander your fellow-countrymen—the men of Paris are not tigers, I imagine. What danger is there?”
“Oh, none,” Yvonne admitted; “but they are said to be so gallant!”
“Gallant! An ill-bred fellow accosts you in the street and you say he is gallant?”
“Not exactly, no,” Yvonne hastened to say; “it’s just the contrary.”
“Men such as that,” said Ethel, “are not men—that’s all!”
There was a moment of silence.