The girl came nearer. Fandor's curiosity made him make himself known, that he might see what she would do. He showed himself, and saluted with an impressive wave of his hat, exclaiming:
"Why, it is Mademoiselle Berthe!"
The girl stopped.
"Why—yes—it is Monsieur Fandor!... How are you?"
"Flourishing, thanks! I need not ask how you are, Mademoiselle!... You bloom!"
Bobinette smiled.
"How is it I find you here at this time of day?"
"Why, Mademoiselle, just in the same way as you happen to be here—the fancy took me to pass this way!... I often do."
"Oh!" cried Bobinette in an apologetic tone. "Now, I am going to ask you how it is you have never responded to Monsieur de Naarboveck's invitation to take a cup of tea with us now and then! We were speaking of you only the other day. Monsieur de Naarboveck said he never saw your signature in La Capitale now—that most probably you were travelling."
"I have, in fact, just returned to Paris. Are all well at Monsieur de Naarboveck's? Has Mademoiselle Wilhelmine recovered from the sad shock of Captain Brocq's death?... His end was so sudden!"