"But say, Mademoiselle Angelique, pray where am I?"
"In my room."
"Yours?"
"Oui, monsieur—there is nothing wonderful in that, is there?"
"And this bed?"
"It is mine," said she, smiling.
"You quite bewilder me," said I, with a sigh.
Her dark eyes and white teeth shone, as she burst into a fit of laughter, and said:
"Ah, mon Dieu, what would Jacquot—the jealous Jacquot—think, if he knew that a strange man had occupied my bed for two weeks?"
"Have I been here so long?"