‘Laisse-moi,’ she threw at him, her brief attack of sobs already ended, although the trace of tears on her cheeks bore witness to its sincerity. You have been to me like a mother, not only a wetnurse. As they're so fond of each other's society they shan't part company even on that occasion, but shall swing from the same tree. "Another moment, and it'll be too late. If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically. ‘But you do not understand, mon ami. She fell into another depression, refusing to touch Sebastian or call him husband when he demanded it. On the fifth day he had ventured speech with her. I——” She threw herself into an easy chair. The girl is in it as deeply as he is.
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