"A thousand thanks. I am indeed blessed," simpered the lady, raising her bushy brows. "A fortunate wanderer on life's rugged road. The marquis is all goodness. Have I also found favour with his brother?"
"I have helped you already," pursued the abbé, fibbing. "I have explained to the marquise that she must no longer interfere with the children; that Mademoiselle Brunelle is to have absolute and complete control."
Aglaé shot at the speaker a suspicious glance. An ally and not an enemy? To what end? If it were really so, a friend in the camp would be extremely useful. A snare--surely a snare--for this man had every reason to dislike the intruder.
"What motive have you for befriending a poor insignificant creature such as I?" bluntly demanded the governess. "People do nothing for nothing in this world, and I know that I am not a beauty."
"I have my reasons."
"What are they?"
"Eve was too prying. Accept the lesson and trust."
Aglaé looked straight at Pharamond; then laughing her great rolling laugh playfully shook her head.
"No. Trust You? Thank you," she said. "You overreach yourself, for you are a dreadfully sharp-witted gentleman who can see through a wall and round a corner. You think I have grand plans, when I have none; for I am only a guileless wandering waif who enjoys the good things of this world."
There was a sly look of covert malice in her sparkling eyes which belied her words, "You do not believe me?" she continued. "I am not quite young, so I have learned to know the world and its funny little snares. Flies are only eaten by spiders because their lives are so short, that they've no time to learn experience."