"Yes," he assented. He stole a timid glance at her, and looked quickly away. "Oh yes."
"Who was it who gave you my address at last, monsieur?"
"I do not know," he said awkwardly. "It was a man who heard me inquiring. I had immense trouble to find it out."
"It is not a dead secret, however."
"I suppose not—no—but I have no friends in Paris; I have never been in Paris before. And at the start I did not even know who you were."
"You did not know who I was? Oh, you had seen something I had posed for?"
"Yes, it was like that. I was anxious to find you, but I did not know your name. And I had no one to help me," he stammered; "it was enormously difficult."
"You are a painter, monsieur Launay?"
"No, mademoiselle."
"Ah, a sculptor! That interests me still more."