Aubé felt that he had no right to deprive the girl of this money, and it was more than probable that these young fellows were not as wild as they seemed. Fernando's calm superciliousness reassured him in some degree.
"Are you going?" asked Frederic, somewhat rudely.
Aubé reluctantly left the room.
The restaurant was filled with customers, all respectable people with the exception of those seated around a table in the further corner of the room—they were doubtful in appearance. When Robeccal, in the discharge of his duties as "extra," came to this table he lingered there, even drinking a glass of wine, first taking care that his employer could not see him.
Aubé, greatly disturbed by the orders he had received, returned to the dining-room just as the Marquise was making her rounds to collect the money that was laid on the back of her guitar. Aubé touched her shoulder.
"I want to speak to you, petite," he said, as he drew her into a corner. "You are not rich, I fancy?"
"I should say not!" And Francine laughed. "What a queer thing to say!"
"I have a proposal to make."
"And what may that be?"
Aubé's kindly face inspired the girl with no distrust. He hesitated.