"Bah," she said. "I shall not listen to your State secrets. Am I an eavesdropper, or inquisitive? Ask any one. That is not my character. You may take her to the farther end of the shop, and speak as low as you please, but, she is a young girl, this is a respectable house, and see her alone in her room you shall not, not whilst she is under my care."
"That privilege being reserved for my colleague, Citizen Dangeau," sneered Hébert.
"Tchtt," said Rosalie, humping a billowy shoulder—"the girl is virtuous and hard-working, too virtuous, I dare say, to please some people. Yes, that I can very well believe," and her gaze became unpleasantly pointed—"Well, I will call her down."
She moved to the inner door as she spoke, and called up the stair: "Marie! Marie Roche! Descend then; you are wanted."
Hébert stood aside with an ill grace, but he was quite well aware that to insist might, after yesterday's scene, bring the whole quarter about his ears, and effectually spoil the ingenious plans he was revolving in his mind.
He moved impatiently as Mademoiselle delayed, and, at the sound of her footstep, started eagerly to meet her.
She came in quite unsuspiciously, looking at Rosalie, and at first seeing no one else. When Hébert's movements brought him before her, she turned deadly white, and a faintness swept over her. She caught the door, fighting it back, till it showed only in that change of colour, and a rather fixed look in the dark blue eyes.
Hébert checked a smile, and entrenched himself behind his office.
"You are Marie Roche, seamstress?"
"Certainly, Citizen."