One afternoon, however, a week after my arrival at Rosny, I found her sitting alone in the parlour.

I had not known she was there, and I was for withdrawing at once with a bow and a muttered apology.

But she stopped me with an angry gesture.

'I do not bite,' she said, rising from her stool and meeting my eyes, a red spot in each cheek.

'Why do you look at me like that?
Do you know, M.de Marsac, that I have no patience with you.' And she stamped her foot on the floor.
'But, mademoiselle,' I stammered humbly, wondering what in the world she meant, 'what have I done ?' 'Done ?' she repeated angrily.