"I'm smiling because I'm so happy," Jules replied. "Don't you smile when you're happy?"
She took a seat by the table, where she rested one hand.
"No, I don't think I do," she said, apparently giving the question serious consideration. "When I am very happy I look serious. Then mamma sometimes fancies I feel sad."
He took a cigarette-case from his pocket and began to smoke.
"Do you know," he said at last, "I shall be sorry when your mother returns?"
"Sorry?"
"Yes, because Madeleine will come back to me then, and I shall have to stay at home. I can't come any more as I do now."
A look of alarm appeared in her face. "But why can't you come just the same?" she asked, innocently.
He burst out laughing, and he felt a sudden desire to pat her on the cheek as he might have done to a child. What a child she was, anyway! Yet he would not have wished her to be different; she seemed to him just what a young girl should be.
"When your mother comes, I can't take breakfast with you any more, and I can't come early on Sunday mornings and stay all day. I shall have to go back to my lonely apartment."