Fanchette was staring at me, her black eyes round as saucers, her mouth half-open.

'Well, madame,' I muttered at length, 'to tell you the truth, at present, you must understand, I have been forced to--' 'What, Gaston ?' Madame de Bonne half rose in bed.

Her voice was sharp with disappointment and apprehension; the grasp of her fingers on my hand grew closer.
I could not resist that appeal.

I flung away the last rag of shame.
'To reduce my establishment somewhat,' I answered, looking a miserable defiance at mademoiselle's averted figure.

She had called me a liar and a cheat--here in the room! I must stand before her a liar and a cheat confessed.