"Aye, truly, where you are the object. If you do not like the truth, go away; you came of your own will and do not stay by mine. In truth, Malincourt would be none the worse for your going altogether."
"I have a strong reason for wishing to stay. You are the reason," he said, shooting a glance at her. "Why won't you let me be your friend?"
"There is but one act of friendship you could show to me."
"What is it?" he asked eagerly. "Try me; try me."
"Put a hundred leagues between us and never lessen the distance. It would indeed be an act of true friendship if you would never let my eyes rest on your face again."
"That is a hard saying. I could not live apart from you," he declared with much earnestness.
"I see no reason in that why you should not go away," she laughed. "The world could manage to exist without you; although your master might miss you."
He looked at her cunningly.
"You do not like my master, I fear, Mistress Lucette."
"Ah, has he set you to find out what I think of him?"
"I could tell you things," he said slyly, lowering his tone and glancing about him.
She paused a moment and her eyes questioned him. She checked the mocking reply which was on her lips, and asked, as if with an assumed indifference, covering real curiosity—
"What could you tell me?"
"I have eyes to see, ears to hear, and I know what I know of his plans—and you would like to know, too."
Lucette started and bent her head over her wheel
