"How long has your husband been absent?" I asked Frédérique.
"About three weeks."
"When is he coming back?"
"I have no idea; you may be sure that I didn't ask him. But, my friend, you seem to take a great deal of interest in my husband's movements: can it be that his absence distresses you?"
I tried to smile, as I answered:
"Oh! not in the least, I beg you to believe. I asked you the question—I don't quite know why."
Frédérique looked earnestly at me and squeezed my hand hard, murmuring:
"So it is true that even sincere friends can't tell each other everything."
The calèche stopped on the boulevard, and I left Madame Dauberny.
"We shall meet again soon," I said.