"But," faltered Bobinette: "How could I act otherwise?"
Vagualame threw her such a look, a look so charged with fierce contempt that she could no longer doubt that she was face to face with her master. This master would not allow argument, discussion: well she knew that!
She screwed up her courage to ask:
"How did you learn my address?"
"That is my business!" he declared: "What I want to know I get to know—you must have seen that by this time!"
"How is it, then, you called at The Crying Calf to-day?... Geoffrey did not know you: he alone knew I was coming to see him!... You followed me?"
"Suppose I did follow you?"... Vagualame's tone changed: it became imperious.
"Have you quite finished asking me silly questions?... I consider it is my turn to put a question or two to you—What are you doing?"
Bobinette bent her head.
"You have a right to know," she murmured: "When you sent me that letter, after I took refuge in La Chapelle, telling me to go to the house of a Madame Olga Dimitroff and present myself for the post of companion, I went. She engaged me. I am still with her."