"Jacques, my dear," cried Gervaise, "take me back to the house." "Gervaise, Gervaise," said the student, "this isn't what you promised me." "Jacques, I will never reproach you again, or say a word about it. I loved you because you took my fancy, that's all." "Alas!" said the student, "this is what I feared; but it's too late." "How too late?" "You came here to accuse me, and accuse me you must." "Never, Jacques, never: you didn't seduce me, Jacques; I was a flirt." "Nonsense!" cried the student. "Besides," added Gervaise, lowering her eyes, "one can be seduced but once." "What do you mean?" "The first time one loves." "Hoity-toity! and you made me believe that you had never loved!" "Jacques, take me back to the house." "Oh indeed I won't!" said Jacques, exasperated by her refusal, and by the reason she gave for it. "No! no! no!" And he knocked at the magistrate's door. "What are you doing?" cried Gervaise. "You see! I am knocking." "Come in!" cried a nasal voice. "I will not go in," exclaimed Gervaise, doing her utmost to release her arm from the student's. "I will not go in!" "Come in," said the same voice a second time, a little more emphatically. "Jacques, I will shriek, I will call for help," said Gervaise. "Come in, I say!" said the voice a third time, nearer at hand, and at the same moment the door opened. "Well! what do you want?" said a tall thin man dressed in black, the mere sight of whom made Gervaise tremble from head to foot. "Mademoiselle here," said Aubry, "has come to enter complaint against a knave who has seduced her." With that he pushed Gervaise into the black, filthy closet, which served as an anteroom to the lieutenant criminal's office. The door closed behind her as if by a spring. Gervaise gave a feeble shriek, half terror, half surprise, and sat down, or rather fell, upon a stool which stood against the wall. Jacques Aubry, meanwhile, lest she should call him back, or run after him, hurried away through corridors known only to law students and advocates, until he reached the courtyard of Sainte-Chapelle; thence he tranquilly pursued his way to Pont Saint-Michel, which it was absolutely certain that Gervaise must cross. Half an hour later she appeared. "Well!" said he, running to meet her, "what happened?" "Alas!" said Gervaise, "you made me tell a monstrous lie; but I hope God will forgive me for it in view of my good intention." "I'll take it upon myself," said Aubry. "Tell me what happened." "Do you fancy that I know?" said Gervaise. "I was so ashamed that I hardly remember what it was all about. All I know is that the lieutenant criminal questioned me, and that I answered his questions sometimes yes, sometimes no: but I am not sure that I answered as I should." "Wretched girl!" cried Aubry, "I believe it will turn out that she accused herself of seducing me." "Oh, no! I don't think I went as far as that." "At least they have my address, haven't they, so that they can summon me?"