"And you will take good care of it? you will not lose it?"
"I will put it away in my little jewel box. How do you suppose that I can lose it?"
"But you—you won't read it, either, will you? For, if I deprive myself of that happiness, it would not be fair for another to enjoy it in my place!"
"Dear Bathilde! this letter, which is so priceless in your eyes, is of no value at all to another woman.—Never fear, I will not touch it.—Now I must leave you, I must go home.—You will surely do as I have told you. And first of all, my dear, to begin with, you will leave this room?"
"Yes."
"And you will not come here again—for ten days?"
"You said a week!"
"Well, so long as Comte Léodgard continues to walk this street."
"I will not come here."
"And your mother—will she not return soon?"