Demoiselle, solved with her innocence, the innocence of a child that, knowing nothing, knows more than they who know everything.
One evening, Adèle brought her housekeeping-book. Gilberte gravely added the column and initialed it.
"But madame is not even looking to see what I bought and how much I paid."
Gilberte blushed:
"You see. ... I don't know much about it. ... So I leave it to you. ... Besides, I have no reason to suspect you. ..."
There must have been something in the tone of her words, something special in her air and attitude; at any rate, the old woman was seized with extraordinary excitement, and, flinging herself on her knees before her mistress, cried:
"Oh, it's a shame to cheat a person like you, ma'am! I can have no heart at all, nor my great rascal of a Bouquetot either! ... Why, you must be an angel from Heaven not to see that everybody's robbing you: the
