"To whom are you writing ?" I asked.

"To Prudence.

Do you want to see what I am writing ?" I had a horror of anything that might look like suspicion, and I answered that I had no desire to know what she was writing; and yet I was certain that letter would have explained to me the cause of her sadness.
Next day the weather was splendid.' Marguerite proposed to me to take the boat and go as far as the island of Croissy.

She seemed very cheerful; when we got back it was five o'clock.
"Mme.

Duvernoy has been here," said Nanine, as she saw us enter.