“Yes; she is now with Pensée.”
“May I call upon her? May I know her? Would she see me?”
“With pleasure, I am sure.”
“And you?” she asked.
“I don't see her,” he said quietly; “I don't hear from her. I don't write to her. And—I don't talk about her. But I should like you to know her. She needs true friends—who understand.”
“Have you been to Prince d'Alchingen's, or has he approached you in any way?”
“I am to dine with him to-morrow.”
“Has he said anything to you about the Marquis of Castrillon?”
“Not a word,” replied Robert, in surprise: “why should he?”
“I believe there is mischief in the air. Be careful, won't you? Reckage is watching us. I think he would like some music. He is so triste this evening.”