Pasquale put me there. It was very
respectable," she added, with a wan smile, "and so dull. Madame
Champet would scarcely let me go into the street by myself."
"Thank heaven you did not fall into worse hands," said I.
Carlotta unpinned her old straw hat, quite a different garment
from the dainty head-wear she delighted in a year before, and
threw it on the couch beside her. A tress of her glorious bronze
hair fell loose across her forehead, adding to the woebegone
expression of her face. She rose, and as she did so I seemed to
notice a curious change in her. She came to me with extended
hands.
"Seer Marcous--" she whispered.
I took her hands in mine.
"Oh, my dear," said I, "why did you leave me?"
"I was wicked. And I was a little fool," said Carlotta.
I sighed, released her, walked a bit apart. There was a blubber
from the egregious old woman in the threshold.
"Oh, Monsieur is not going to drive her away."
I turned upon her.
"Instead of standing there weeping like a fountain and doing
nothing, why aren't you getting Mademoiselle's room ready for
her?"
"Because Monsieur has the key," wailed Antoinette.
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