Her face was grave in an instant, and her cheek flushed. I followed up my advantage.
“At this hour to-morrow, mademoiselle,” I said gently, “you will be here?”
She looked up at me with a suspicion of mischief in her dark blue eyes.
“Ah, M. le Maréchal,” she said softly, “I comprehend now how you won Mademoiselle Ramodanofsky. You are excellent—you are determined.”
“Yes, mademoiselle,” I said, smiling; “but you forget that I dine and sup with a disconsolate lover, and truly it destroys my appetite. Therefore be merciful to us both.”
She hesitated a moment longer, and then she smiled.
“At this hour to-morrow I shall be in church, monsieur,” she said demurely, “unless madame my aunt desires my presence elsewhere.”
“Mademoiselle,” I said quietly, “I cannot thank you for one who can, and will, thank you for himself.”
As I spoke, she cast a startled glance behind her and veiled her face. Looking back, I saw the same man who had jostled Touchet when M. de Lambert and I were departing from Zotof’s house.
“Mademoiselle is alarmed,” I remarked.