grocer, the baker, the butcher, and I most of all! ... Just look at my book: a bunch of carrots, thirty sous; a wretched chicken, six francs fifteen sous. ..."
She emptied her purse on the table:
"There! Fifty or sixty francs I've done you out of, all in one month! ... But I stopped the other day, I couldn't do it, it broke my heart to see you like that, so trusting. ..."
"My poor Adèle," whispered Gilberte, greatly moved.
"And then ... and then," continued the woman, in a low voice, with bent head, "I have something else to confess. ... But I dare not: it's so shameful. ... Listen. ... Mme. de la Vaudraye ... well, she put me here to tell her all about you: what you did; if you received any letters; if you talked to gentlemen. ... And, in the morning, when I went to do my shopping, I used to go to her ... and tell her what I saw. ... Oh, there was nothing wrong to tell, for you are
