"Monsieur must not drive her away."
I pushed her gently aside and entered the little room which I had
furnished once as her boudoir.
On the couch sat Carlotta, white and pinched and poorly clad. At
first I was only conscious of her great brown eyes fixed upon me,
the dog-like appeal of our first meeting intensified to
heart-breaking piteousness. On seeing me she did not rise, but
cowered as if I would strike her. I looked at her, unable to
speak. Antoinette stood sobbing in the doorway.
"Well?" said I, at last.
"I have come home," said Carlotta.
"You have been away a long time," said I.
"Ye-es," said Carlotta.
"Why have you come?" I asked.
"I had no money," said Carlotta, with her expressive gesture of
upturned palms. "I had nothing but that." She pointed to a tiny
travelling bag. "Everything else was at the Mont de Piete--the
pawnshop--and they would not keep me any longer at the pension.
I owed them for three weeks, and then they lent me money to buy
my ticket to London. I said Seer Marcous would pay them back.
Pages:
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398