"You are going to have supper with me," she said to me;
"meanwhile, take a book. I am going into my dressing-room for a
moment."

She lit the candles of a candelabra, opened a door at the foot of
the bed, and disappeared.

I began to think over this poor girl's life, and my love for her
was mingled with a great pity. I walked to and fro in the room,
thinking over things, when Prudence entered.

"Ah, you here?"' she said, "where is Marguerite?"

"In her dressing-room."

"I will wait. By the way, do you know she thinks you charming?"

"No."

"She hasn't told you?"

"Not at all."

"How are you here?"

"I have come to pay her a visit."

"At midnight?"