She read the sincerity of his intention in his voice, and gave him her hands. He kissed them both, one after the other, and then said simply, as he raised his head: “Ah, if I had found a woman like you, how gladly I would have married her.”
She was touched this time—soothed by this phrase, as women are by the compliments which reach their hearts, and she gave him one of those rapid and grateful looks which make us their slaves. Then, as he could find no change of subject to renew the conversation, she said softly, laying her finger on his arm: “And I am going to play my part of a friend at once. You are clumsy.” She hesitated a moment, and then asked: “May I speak plainly?”
“Yes.”
“Quite plainly?”
“Quite.”
“Well, go and see Madame Walter, who greatly appreciates you, and do your best to please her. You will find a place there for your compliments, although she is virtuous, you understand me, perfectly virtuous. Oh! there is no hope of—of poaching there, either. You may find something better, though, by showing yourself. I know that you still hold an inferior position on the paper. But do not be afraid, they receive all their staff with the same kindness. Go there—believe me.”
He said, with a smile: “Thanks, you are an angel, a guardian angel.”
They spoke of one thing and another. He stayed for some time, wishing to prove that he took pleasure in being with her, and on leaving, remarked: “It is understood, then, that we are friends?”
“It is.”