“She is upstairs, monsieur.”
“If she had gone out, I should have been disappointed,” smiled Doggie.
“You desire to see her, monsieur?”
“To thank her before I go for her kindness to me.”
The old face wrinkled into a smile.
“It was not then for the beaux yeux of the grand’mère that you entered?”
”Si, si! Of course it was,” he protested. “But one, nevertheless, must be polite to mademoiselle.”
“Aïe! aïe!” said the old woman, bustling out: “I’ll call her.”
Presently Jeanne came in alone, calm, cool, and in her plain black dress, looking like a sweet Fate. From the top of her dark brown hair to her trim, stout shoes, she gave the impression of being exquisitely ordered, bodily and spiritually.
“It was good of you to come,” he cried, and they shook hands instinctively, scarcely realizing it was for the first time. But he was sensitive to the frank grip of her long and slender fingers.