M. Hervart stretched out his legs, so that he held the girl's knees between his own. She smiled. M. Hervart, a little oppressed by his emotions, dared not speak. He took her hand and kissed it.
All of a sudden, Rose exclaimed: "We have forgotten the microscope!"
"So we have! our pretext. What will become of us?"
"But do we need a pretext, now?"
M. Hervart renewed the pressure of his prisoning knees. That was his first answer.
"We're conspirators, Rose," he then said. "It's serious."
"I hope so."
"We have been conspirators for a long time."
"Since this morning, yes."
She blushed a little.