He gave her a whimsical glance.
"So it appears," he murmured, "since De Maurepas, you, and my own legs are all of the same story. Well, he will be after me in a few moments, that good Maurepas, and then I shall get to my room again."
"I think I know M. de Maurepas a little," said Aline; "he is very religious."
Cléry gave a faint laugh.
"Yes, we are strange room-mates, he and I. He prays all the time and I not at all, since I never could imagine that le bon Dieu could possibly be interested in my banal conversation; but he is a good comrade, that Maurepas, in spite of his prayers."
"But, Monsieur, how come you to be so ill? If you knew how I have reproached myself, and now to see you like this—oh, you cannot tell how I feel."
Cléry found the pity in her eyes very agreeable.
"And why reproach yourself, Citoyenne; it is not your fault that my cell is damp."
"No, no, but your arrest; to think that I should have brought that upon you. Had I known, I would have done anything rather than ask your help."
"Ah, then you would have deprived me of a pleasure. Indeed, Citoyenne, my arrest need not trouble you; it was due, not to your affairs, but my own."