Suddenly Francine exclaimed, "If he is my Jacques, he ought to be about twenty. He ought to be very handsome."
Irène colored, as she said, "He is handsome!"
"With black eyes, and brown curling hair?"
Irène was unwilling to admit that she had studied Fanfar in all these details, but she stammered out, "Yes, that describes him."
"For pity's sake, tell me all you know!"
Irène asked herself why she should hesitate. After all there was nothing to be ashamed of in her sentiments towards Fanfar.
"I will tell you all," she said, in a low voice.
"Why are you so disturbed?" asked Francine. "When you mention the name of this Fanfar, you have tears in your eyes."
Irène buried her face on her friend's shoulder: "I love him!" she whispered, "and I love you as if you were my sister!"
The two young girls embraced each other tenderly.