Again the nun interrupted the young man with a gesture.
"True, monsieur, I should have preferred not to mention my real and very definite reasons which make it an imperative duty that I should request Mademoiselle Dollon to seek another refuge. Nevertheless, since you insist, I will tell you that Mademoiselle Dollon's attitude just now—her behaviour—is what we cannot possibly allow...."
"Good Heavens! What do you wish to insinuate now, madame?"
"You kissed her, monsieur. I regret that you have forced me to go into details. I regret that you have compelled me to put into words this—I will not allow you to turn this religious house into a lover's meeting place! Am I clear?"
Before Fandor had time to protest, the nun gave him a curt bow, and prepared to leave him.
The young journalist recalled her. He was angry; all the more so, because he knew that the Mother Superior had some justification for the attitude she had taken up. Alas! All his protestations were vain!
"Very well, madame," he said at last. "You are utterly mistaken; but I recognise that your attitude has some colour of justification, and I bow to your decision, based on misinformation and a mistake though it be. Kindly allow me two days' grace, that I may find another refuge for Mademoiselle Dollon!"
With a movement of her head the nun signified her assent; then, with a final bow, she left the parlour.
Crestfallen, but full of angry resolve, Jérôme Fandor turned his back on the convent.