“Do I, monsieur? Oh! I am so sorry!”
“But here we are in my rooms at last, God be praised! I don’t quite know, though, how you are to go out!”
“Pardine! through the door, as I came.”
“That’s easy for you to say! However, we will see, when to-morrow comes.”
Nicette looked about her. She examined my apartment, my furniture; she followed me into each room; I had only three, by the way: a small reception room, a bedroom, and a study where I worked, or read, or played the piano, or did whatever else I chose.
“Sit down and rest,” I said.
“Oh! in a moment, monsieur; you see——”
She glanced at my couch and my easy-chairs; she seemed to be afraid to go near them. I could not help smiling at her embarrassment.
“Doesn’t the apartment please you?” I inquired.
“Oh! yes, indeed, monsieur! but it’s all so fine and so shiny! I’m afraid of spoiling something.”