exclaimed that the Baron was an awful man; that she knew all sorts of
things about him! Know him? she should think so! That such a union was
impossible, that it could never take place, that Plumet, she knew, would
agree with her:

"Madame Plumet," I said, "we have strayed some distance from the business
which brought you here. Let us return to your affairs; mine are
hopeless, and you can not remedy them."

She got up trembling, her eyes red and her feelings a little hurt.

"My action? Oh, no! I can't attend to it to-day. I've no heart to talk
about my business. What you've told me has made me too unhappy. Another
day, Monsieur Mouillard, another day."

She left me with a look of mystery, and a pressure of the hand which
seemed to say: "Rely on me!"

Poor woman!




CHAPTER XII

I GO TO ITALY

June 10th.

In the train. We have passed the fortifications. The stuccoed houses of