"Bah, you show your lodgers too much consideration, citizen jailer; you spoil them." Nevertheless Lebœuf allowed his hand to drop from the latch and took a few impatient strides across the floor.
The door opened and, turning, Lebœuf saw Mademoiselle de Rochefort standing on the threshold. She was thinner than when she left La Thierry: but her eyes had lost none of their fire, and she looked Citizen Lebœuf in the face without flinching. His dull eyes kindled while he looked at her some moments without speaking.
"Do you know who I am?" he inquired in his thick, husky voice.
"Yes, I overheard the jailer call you Citizen Lebœuf."
"Right. I am Citizen Lebœuf; and do you know why you have been brought here?"
"A paper was read to me last night which pretended to give some explanation," was her quiet rejoinder.
"In order to save time and expense your trial will take place at Tours, rather than at Paris. I am one of the judges of this district."
Mademoiselle Edmé looked at him with an expression of indifference.
"You do not appear to be afraid."
"I am not afraid," was the quiet reply.