"You did not like it, papa?"
"Very much, very much. It is quite good—and—and pathetic."
"Then, darling papa?"
"I want to talk with you a little more before you send it."
Everyone drank their coffee a little quicker, and five minutes later François found himself alone with his daughter. Even Mme. Darbois had withdrawn, afraid that she might show her own anxiety too much.
"I am listening to you, papa."
"You are going to answer my questions with perfect frankness,
Esperance?"
"Yes, father."
"Had you thought of writing to Countess Styvens before you read that letter?"
He drew the Academician's letter from his portfolio and placed it before her.