gaze was on the red fire; my heart was measuring its own content; it sounded and sounded, and found the depth fathomless.
"Monsieur," at last said my quiet companion, as stirless in her happiness as a mouse in its terror. Even now in speaking she scarcely lifted her head.
"Well, Frances?" I like unexaggerated intercourse; it is not my way to overpower with amorous epithets, any more than to worry with selfishly importunate caresses.
"Monsieur est raisonnable, n'est-ce pas?"
"Yes; especially when I am requested to be so in English: but why do you ask me? You see nothing vehement or obtrusive in my manner; am I not tranquil enough?"
"Ce n'est pas cela—" began Frances.
"English!" I reminded her.
"Well, monsieur, I wished merely to say, that I should like, of course, to retain my employment of teaching. You will teach still, I suppose, monsieur?"
