MADAM FOUCHERE
"Then you love Hayti?" asked Dessalines, leaning toward her, powerfully moved.
"Ah, yes; I love Hayti! It is Fouchère who is fond of Paris—but then Fouchère has me!" She laughed, and he felt her eyes playing over him from the dark crevice between the lashes. "Monsieur resides in England. Why is that? Are the people not fatiguing? Do you find it amusing?"
"I have been studying," answered Dessalines slowly. "I did not go to be amused; my amusements are to come later." His black features grew thoughtful. Dessalines was unable to hide an emotion, although he could conceal a purpose.
"And has monsieur done nothing but study? Has he found no time for gayety? asked Madam Fouchère curiously.
"That is all," replied Dessalines, interpreting the remark as he knew it was intended. "I have been reading international law and political economy; also, certain works of Le Bon."
"But no diversion?" persisted madam.
"None, except to dine or spend a few hours of the day with my friends the Maltbys. Giles, the only son of Sir Henry Maltby, was my college mate at Oxford. It was there that I made the acquaintance of a mutual friend, Doctor Leyden."
Madam Fouchère sat suddenly upright; her sensitive face seemed to palpitate.
"Leyden! Then you have met Leyden?"
Dessalines bowed assent. The lips of Madam Fouchere quivered.
"He is now in England?"
167
