"Father's and mother's names?"
"By what right do you question me?" the voice was icy with offence, and Rosalie stirred uneasily.
"It is the Citizen Deputy Hébert; answer him," she growled—and Hébert commended her with a look.
Really this was amusing—the girl had spirit as well as beauty. Decidedly she was worth pursuing.
"Father's and mother's names?" he repeated.
Mademoiselle bit her lip, and gave the names she had already given when she took out her certificate of Citizenship.
They were those of her foster-parents, and had she not had that rehearsal, she might have faltered, and hesitated. As it was, her answer came clear and prompt.
Hébert scowled.
"You are not telling the truth," he observed in offensive tones, expecting an outburst, but Mlle de Rochambeau merely looked past him with an air of weary indifference.
"I am not satisfied," he burst out. "If you had been frank and open, you would have found me a good friend, but I do not like lies, and you are telling them. Now I am not a safe person to tell lies to, not at all—remember that. My friendship is worth having, and you may choose between it and my enmity, my virtuous Citoyenne."