She smiles demurely. Many have wished to speak with her. Arnaud divines her thoughts.
"My name is Lou Arnaud!" he adds meaningly.
"Ah!" she ponders on this for an instant; then: "It is a warm night; if you will seat yourself at one of the little tables in the courtyard at the back of the house, I will try to join you, when these pigs have finished feeding." She indicates with contempt the noisily eating crowd.
They sit long at that table, for the man has much to tell of his young brother Claude; of the ruin she has made of his life; of the little green devils that lurk in a glass of absinthe, and clutch their victim, and drag him down deeper, ever deeper, into the great, green abyss.
But she only laughs, this Jehane of the wanton eyes.
"But what do you want from me? I have no need of this Claude. He wearies me—now!"
Arnaud springs to his feet, catching her roughly by the wrist. He loves his young brother much. His voice is raised, attracting the notice of two or three groups who take coffee at the iron tables.
"You had need of him once. You never left him in peace till you had sucked him of all that makes life good. If I could——"
Jean Potin appears in the doorway.
"Jehane, what are you doing out here? You know I do not permit it that you speak with the visitors. Pardon her, monsieur, she is but a child."