"Do, do say you forgive me, Elizabeth!"
The smile returned to Elizabeth's lips: she was much moved.
"Indeed, I do... You are always my very good friend: you think of everything, and you watch over me as if ..."
Intimidated, blushing hotly, she stopped short, then changed the conversation.
"Do tell me if you have heard anything fresh!"
Fandor returned to his normal self also. He had sworn to himself that he would not tell Elizabeth he loved her, until he had succeeded in unravelling the tangled skein of the terrible Dollon affair.
"I shall speak," thought he, "when she is once more at peace and free, when she is out of danger. I do not want her to consent to love me just because I have devoted myself to her brother's case. Elizabeth shall be my wife, please God; but only if I deserve her, if I can win her."
And Jérôme Fandor told her the story of the famous wicker trunk—but he did not mention Thomery's death, nor did he speak of the horrible murder of Jules.... What was the use of saddening Elizabeth, of adding needlessly to her terrors? Instead, he thought it better to learn what he could from her.
"I have not found that famous list!" said he.
"Oh, I beg your pardon!" cried Elizabeth. "I was so worried!... Just imagine that, I found the list after all, and I thought I had lost it! It was in one of my little handbags. I had put it there to bring to you. Here it is: they were quite willing to let me keep it!"