THE ARM-CHAIR AT THE INN
these two people love each other? He is brave, and you say he is handsome—what better can the girl have?”
Lemois shrugged his shoulders in a helpless way, but with an expression on his obstinate face that showed his entire satisfaction with his own course.
Madame read his thoughts and turned upon him, a dominating ring in her voice. “And you really mean, Lemois, that you are playing jailer, and shutting up two hearts in different cells?”
Lemois, suddenly nonplussed, hesitated and looked away. We held our breaths for his answer.
“Ah, madame,” he replied at last slowly, all the fight knocked out of him, “it is not best that we discuss it. Better let me know what madame la marquise will have for dinner—we have waited all day until your wishes were known.”
“Nothing—not a crumb of anything until I find out about these lovers. Did you ever know anything like it, gentlemen? Here on one side are broken heads and broken hearts—on the other, a charming old gentleman whom I have known for years, and whom I