Mademoiselle Blanche sighed, and her mother glanced at her wistfully.
"But it's too far," Madame resumed with a shake of the head. "We could not go so far from the children."
"Then you have other children?" said the journalist. "Are they in the circus, too?"
For the first time, the girl's face brightened. "Oh, no!" she replied, with a suggestion of horror in her tone.
"They are very young," the mother explained. "Jeanne is only fourteen and Louise will be eleven next month. They are with my sister in Boulogne."
Durand made a little sign of impatience which indicated to Jules that he was not getting the information he wanted. Besides, he was evidently displeased by the failure of his leers to produce any apparent effect upon the girl; she seemed to be unconscious of them.
"And Monsieur Perrault," he said, "he is still performing?"
An expression of pain appeared in the mother's face, and Mademoiselle dropped her eyes.
"No, he died three years ago," Madame Perrault replied. "He was killed at Monte Carlo. He fell from the trapeze."
There was silence for a moment, and the journalist tried to infuse into his insipid little face a look of sympathy. Just how much sympathy he felt was shown by his next remark.