"The same Pierrot..." her voice was tender. Then she drew herself together, her fingers lightly clasped in his, a faint colour in her thin cheeks.
"You remember Archie Thesiger?"
"Yes." He knew what was coming.
"He offered me his ... protection." Fantine's eyes were enigmatic. "It seemed ... the best thing to do. I was very happy—for a time. He took a little flat in Brighton and—you will laugh!"—she smiled herself—"I am domestic in my tastes—But yes!—and excellent manager. I made Archie quite content. You think because I love my clothes I should be helpless in a kitchen? There you are wrong. One day I will come and make you," she paused—"such an omelette! ... But of course I knew it couldn't last. That is the drawback to ... ce métier. He fell in love—with a young girl. Il faut se ranger—I understood. And there it was!—to begin again. The next time I was not so lucky. Rich, yes. But a 'mauvais sujet.' And then I find that he is married! Madame arrives ... Dieu, quelle scène! She seem to think I love her Reuben! Yes—a Jew ... that too! But I tell her, smiling, to her face, that it was purely business with me. My faith, she did not care for it. I agreed it was not suitable—ce ménage—lowering for a woman such as I am, with brains and looks—that money is not everything! He drank too—and she knew that!"
At her mischievous sidelong glance McTaggart gave a grim laugh, conjuring up the unequal duel between this strange, dissimilar pair.
"I give her then some good advice,"—Fantine was enjoying her story, the topaz eyes keen and bright, lips curved in a mocking smile. "I say: 'You are a good woman, with babies, per'aps, and a linen press. But that is not all a man wants. Learn to talk ... and walk ... an' dress! Marriage—what is it? A legal tie. But a clever wife must charm to hold ... You catch my point?—I am ver' glad. I could teach you ... yes, many things. But my cab waits—Adieu, Madame!'" ...
"Good Lord!—So you went. And then?"
Fantine made a wry grimace.
"I became companion to a lady. (Of men, you see, I had had enough!) Also rich, mais une femme du peuple! Archie gave me a written reference. His uncle is a baronet and that was quite sufficient to her. I learned there how to wash a dog and make petticoats for the poor. Not flannel—you understan'?—but flannelette—most dangerous—but good enough for Charity! (McTaggart chuckled, watching her.) And what a 'real lady' could do and what a 'real lady' could not!
"It's a ... sale métier!—to my mind—hardly as moral as the other—so uncharitable"—she frowned.