"Because Monsieur Rochebrune is going in another direction, and I am going to drive him part of the way."
As she spoke, Frédérique motioned to the coachman to drive on, paying no heed to the baron, who declared that he wanted to stay with me. The poor Prussian stood on the same spot, and glared at me in a far from friendly fashion.
"I am not sorry to be rid of the baron," said Frédérique, "for I want to talk with you; if you are really in no hurry, suppose we take a turn in the Bois?"
"That will give me great pleasure, madame, for I too long to talk with you."
"Take us to the Bois de Boulogne, cocher.—Ah! if the poor baron knew this, he would be frantic!"
"Yes, for he's terribly jealous; he sees a rival in every man who has the privilege of knowing you."
"The man believes that everybody's in love with me! he is too stupid! But let us say no more of the baron and his love, which disturbs me very little. Let us come to what interests you. You want to know, of course, what has become of Armantine? Before a stranger, I would not betray her incognito; but to you, it seems to me that I may safely tell where she is, so that you can go there and condole with her. Armantine is living at Passy, on the Grande Rue, near the forest; she has taken the name of Madame Montfort. That is what I had to tell you."
"Is that all, madame?"
"Why, I should suppose that it was a great deal to you, to know what has become of the lady of your thoughts."
"Frédérique, are you willing that we should be friends again?"