“Then you will marry according to your taste, and you’ll be happy.”
“Perhaps so! but let’s not talk about that, monsieur.”
“Well! time flies; it’s nearly eight o’clock, and you must go, Nicette.”
“Yes, monsieur, that is true; whenever you say the word. But I—is——”
“What do you want to say?”
“Shan’t I see you again?”
“Yes, indeed; I hope to see you often. If you move to another quarter, you must leave your new address with my concierge.”
“Very well, monsieur; I won’t fail.”
The child was in evident distress; she turned her face away to conceal her tears. Could it be that she was sorry to leave me? What nonsense! We had known each other only since the night before! And yet, I too was unhappy at parting from her.
She was certain to meet one or more servants on the stairs; but what was she to do? there was no other way out. She promised to go down very rapidly, and to hurry under the porte cochère.