My fears redoubled when I saw Jeanne and M. Charnot at the windows of the train, as it swept past me into the station.
A minute later she stepped on to the platform, dressed all in gray, with roses in her cheeks, and a pair of gull’s wings in her hat.
M. Charnot shook me by the hand, thoroughly delighted at having escaped from the train and being able to shake himself and tread once more the solid earth. He asked after my uncle, and when I replied that he was in excellent health, he went to get his luggage.
“Well!” said Jeanne. “Is all arranged?”
“On the contrary, nothing is.”
“Have you seen him?”
“Not even that. I have been watching for a favorable opportunity without finding one. Yesterday evening he was busy with a visitor; this morning he went out at six. He doesn’t even know that I am in Bourges.”
“And yet you were in his house?”
“I slept on a sofa in his library.”
She gave me a look which was as much as to say, “My poor boy, how very unpractical you are!”