"To be sure; well?"
"Why, she went away again, monsieur; and the gardener noticed that when she went away, she was crying, she was very unhappy."
"Ah! she was crying?"
"Yes, monsieur. I ask your pardon, monsieur, for questioning you; but this girl—was it she, monsieur?"
"Violette, monsieur, the little flower girl; the one that—you know, monsieur."
"No, no, it wasn't she;" replied the count, trying to calm Georget's excitement. "Why do you suppose that that girl would come to see me?"
"Mon Dieu! I don't know, monsieur; but as you spoke to her one day, in Paris, I thought that perhaps she might have something to say to you. But it wasn't she who came here and of course that makes a difference; excuse me, monsieur."
At that moment Pongo appeared in the count's apartment, all out of breath, crying:
"Master! master! girl from Paris—I no bring her back, her gone."