And this time my voice was hoarse enough, without any need of feigning.
"Love him! Ridiculous! What does such a woman understand by love?
Certainly neither the sentiment nor the poetry of it! Tush, Hippolyte! I do not wish to be censorious; but every one knows that ever since M.de Marignan has been away in Algiers, that woman has had, not one devoted admirer, but a dozen; and now that her husband is coming back...." "Coming back! ...

her husband!" I echoed, half rising in my place, and falling back again, as if stunned.

"Good heavens! is she not a widow ?" It was now the lady's turn to be startled.
"A widow!" she repeated.

"Why, you know as well as I that--_Dieu_! To whom I am speaking ?" "Madame," I said, as steadily as my agitation would let me, "I beg you not to be alarmed.

I am not, it is true, the person whom you have supposed; but--Nay, I implore you...." She here uttered a quick cry, and darted forward for the check-string.
Arresting her hand half way, respectfully but firmly, I went on:-- "How I came here, I will explain presently.