"Yes. Unless we go for a stroll?..."
"I had rather wait till the afternoon: do you mind? I have a lot of letters to write this morning."
"Very well. We'll go on the cliff."
Hortense and Rénine exchanged a glance of surprise. Was this suggestion accidental? Or had they before them, contrary to their expectations, the very couple of whom they were in search?
Hortense tried to laugh:
"My heart is thumping," she said. "Nevertheless, I absolutely refuse to believe in anything so improbable. 'My husband and I have never had the slightest quarrel,' she said to me. No, it's quite clear that those two get on admirably."
"We shall see presently, at the Trois Mathildes, if one of them comes to meet the brother and sister."
M. d'Ormeval had gone down the stairs, while his wife stood leaning on the balustrade of the terrace. She had a beautiful, slender, supple figure. Her clear-cut profile was emphasized by a rather too prominent chin when at rest; and, when it was not smiling, the face gave an expression of sadness and suffering.
"Have you lost something, Jacques?" she called out to her husband, who was stooping over the shingle.
"Yes, the key," he said. "It slipped out of my hand."