"You know him then?"
A smile, singularly sardonic on such a beautiful little face, was perceptible as she answered briefly,—
"Yes."
"How?"
"He is only my husband."
"Husband!" I reiterated, as my romance vanished like a soap-bubble.
"Mon Dieu! does that surprise you so much, that you must drop my poor little hand as if it were a hot poker, or Surinam beetle?"
"You will pardon me."
"People, to their misfortune, have husbands sometimes, monsieur," said she with a demure pout.
"And you are here——"