"Who did he mean?"
"Alors, Madame, he meant you!"
(This then, I think to myself, is what happens to one when one is really frightened. The lips turn dry as chips. And all because a German has noticed me. It is absurd.)
I force a smile.
"Perhaps you imagine this," I said.
"No, because he said to me to-day, 'Where is that mädchen who never spoke?'"
"What did you say?"
"She is deaf," I told him. "She does not hear when anyone speaks to her!"
"So that is why you locked me up."
"C'est ça, Madame. It was my brother who wished it. He is very afraid. And now, Madame, good-night. I must put the little girls to bed."