“What two?”
“The character of the old man and the character of the child. They could not do the thing you suggest. No, not for far greater reward. Not in a thousand years.” She beat the bed with her hands. “There must be some other explanation. There must. There must!”
For a moment there was silence in the room. Lucile removed her street garments, put on her dream robe, then crept into bed.
“Oh,” she sighed, “I forgot to tell you what that extraordinary child asked me to do.”
“What?”
“She said she had an errand to do for the old Frenchman; that it would take her a long way from home and she was afraid to go alone. She asked me if I would go with her.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I—I told her that both my roommate and I would go.”
“You did!”
“Why, yes.”