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. 'It is
natural that he should be. He has seen more of the world.'
That silenced me for a moment, but she did not seem to notice it.
'I was looking for him a little while ago, and I could not find
him,' I said, after a pause
'He has been into the village,' she answered.
I longed to pursue the matter further; but though she seemed to
entertain no suspicion of me, I dared not run the risk.
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