"Plumet, pale as death, fumbled at his workman's cap, like a naughty
child.
"'Why, you see, Mademoiselle—I am only a poor framemaker.'
"'Very well! I shall go to Madame Plumet, who is sure to know, and
will not mind telling me.'
"Madame Plumet, who must have been listening at the door, came in at
that moment, trembling like a leaf, and prepared to dare all.
"I beg you won't, Mademoiselle,' broke in Dufilleul; 'there is no secret. I only wanted to tease you. The portrait is for a friend of mine who lives at Fontainebleau.'
"'His name?'
"'Gonin—he's a solicitor.'
"'It was time you told me. How wretched you both looked. Another time tell me straight out, and frankly, anything you have no reason to conceal. Promise you won't act like this again.'
"'I promise.'
"'Then, let us make peace.'