To a
man there is always a mystery lurking behind a veil. So he rose,
walked past her, returned and deliberately sat down in the chair
opposite to hers. The fact that gendarmes moved among the crowd
did not disturb him.
"Good evening, Mademoiselle," he said, politely lifting his hat.
She straightened haughtily. "Monsieur," she said, resentment,
consternation and indignation struggling to predominate in her
tones, "I did not give you permission to sit down. You are
impertinent!"
"O, no," Maurice declared. "I am not impertinent. I am lonesome.
In all Bleiberg I haven't a soul to talk to, excepting the hotel
waiters, and they are uninteresting. Grant me the privilege of
conversing with you for a moment. We shall never meet again; and
I should not know you if we did. Whether you are old or young,
plain or beautiful, it matters not. My only wish is to talk to a
woman, to hear a woman's voice"
"Shall I call a gendarme, Monsieur, and have him search for your
nurse?" The attitude which accompanied these words was anything
but assuring.
He, however, evinced no alarm. He even laughed. "That was good!
We shall get along finely, I am sure.
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