What it was, and whether it had to do with M.de Cocheforet, I could not tell.
But there it was, and I grew more curious the longer I remained alone.
She came back to me presently, looking thoughtful and a trifle downcast.
'That was Clon, was it not ?' I said, studying her face.
'Yes,' she answered.

She spoke absently, and did not look at me.
'How does he talk to you ?' I asked, speaking a trifle curtly.
As I intended, my tone roused her.

'By signs,' she said.
'Is he--is he not a little mad ?' I ventured.

I wanted to make her talk and forget herself.
She looked at me with sudden keenness, then dropped her eyes.
'You do not like him ?' she said, a note of challenge in her voice.

'I have noticed that, Monsieur.' 'I think he does not like me,' I replied.
'He is less trustful than we are,' she answered naively.