and learning that he
lodged in a smaller chamber on the farther side of the landing, secured
it for the use of mademoiselle and her woman. In spite of a certain
excitability which marked him at times, he seemed to be a quick, ready
fellow, and he willingly undertook to go out, late as it was, and
procure some provisions and a few other things which were sadly needed,
as well for my mother's comfort as for our own. I directed Fanchette to
aid him in the preparation of the other chamber, and thus for a while I
was left alone with mademoiselle. She had taken one of the stools, and
sat cowering over the fire, the hood of her cloak drawn about her head;
in such a manner that even when she looked at me, which she did from
time to time, I saw little more than her eyes, bright with contemptuous
anger.

'So, sir,' she presently began, speaking in a low voice, and turning
slightly towards me, 'you practise lying even here?'

I felt so strongly the futility of denial or explanation that I shrugged
my shoulders and remained silent under the sneer. Two more days--two
more days would take us to Rosny, and my task would be done, and
Mademoiselle and I would part for good and all. What would it matter
then what she thought of me? What did it matter now?

For the first time in our intercourse my silence seemed to disconcert
and displease her. 'Have you nothing to say for yourself?' she muttered
sharply, crushing a fragment of charcoal under her foot, and stooping
to peer at the ashes. 'Have you not another lie in your quiver, M. de
Marsac?' De Marsac!' And she repeated the title, with a scornful laugh,
as if she put no faith in my claim to it.

But I would answer nothing--nothing; and we remained silent until
Fanchette, coming in to say that the chamber was ready, held the light
for her mistress to pass out. I told the woman to come back and fetch
mademoiselle's supper, and then, being left alone with my mother, who
had fallen asleep, with a smile on her thin, worn face, I began to
wonder what had happened to reduce her to such dire poverty.

I feared to agitate her by referring to it; but later in the evening,
when her curtains were drawn and Simon Fleix and I were left together,
eyeing one another across the embers like dogs of different breeds--with
a certain strangeness and suspicion--my thoughts recurred to the
question; and determining first to learn something about my companion,
whose pale, eager face and tattered, black dre