"What do you mean to do?" murmured he; "what are your plans?"
"I wait to know your good pleasure," replied Gilbert.
The young man covered his eyes with both hands, and, as Gilbert said no more, he seemed to feel a thrill of impatience and vexation.
"His pride demands some mercy," thought Gilbert. "I will spare him the mortification of making the first advances."
"I should like very much to have a conversation with you," said he gently. "This cannot be upon the terrace, Ivan will not leave you alone there. Does he keep you company in your room in the evening?"
"Are you jesting?" answered Stephane, raising his head. "After nine o'clock Ivan never comes near my room."
"And his room, if I am not mistaken," answered Gilbert, "is separated from you by a corridor and a staircase. So we shall run no risk of being overheard."
Stephane turned towards him and looked him in the face. "You think
of everything," said he, with a smile, sad and ironical.
"Apparently, to reach me, you will be obliged to mount a swallow.
Have you made your arrangements with one?"
"I shall come over the roofs," said Gilbert quietly.
"Impossible!" cried Stephane. "In the first place, I do not wish you to risk your life for me again. And then—"