"Who is Juliette de Marny, and why did she seek an entrance into Paul's house?" "Did she seek it, then?" "Yes; I saw the scene from the balcony. At the time it did not strike me as a farce. I merely thought that she had been stupid and foolhardy. But since then I have reflected. She provoked the mob of the street, wilfully, just at the very moment when she reached M. Déroulède's door. She meant to appeal to his chivalry, and called for help, well knowing that he would respond." She spoke rapidly and excitedly now, throwing off all shyness and reserve. Blakeney was forced to check her vehemence, which might have been thought "suspicious" by some idle citizen unpleasantly inclined. "Well? And now?" he asked, for the young girl had paused, as if ashamed of her excitement. "And now she stays in the house, on and on, day after day," continued Anne Mie, speaking more quietly, though with no less intensity. "Why does she not go? She is not safe in France. She belongs to the most hated of all the classes--the idle, rich aristocrats of the old régime. Paul has several times suggested plans for her emigration to England. Madame Déroulède, who is an angel, loves her, and would not like to part from her, but it would be obviously wiser for her to go, and yet she stays. Why?" "Presumably because ..." "Because she is in love with Paul?" interrupted Anne Mie vehemently. "No, no; she does not love him--at least--Oh! sometimes I don't know. Her eyes light up when he comes, and she is listless when he goes. She always spends a longer time over her toilet, when we expect him home to dinner," she added, with a touch of naïve femininity. "But--if it be love, then that love is strange and unwomanly; it is a love that will not be for his good ..." "Why should you think that?" "I don't know," said the girl simply. "Isn't it an instinct?" "Not a very unerring one in this case, I fear." "Why?" "Because your own love for Paul Déroulède has blinded you--- Ah! you must pardon me, mademoiselle; you sought this conversation and not I, and I fear me I have wounded you. Yet I would wish you to know how deep is my sympathy with you, and how great my desire to render you a service if I could." "I was about to ask a service of you, monsieur." "Then command me, I beg of you." "You are Paul's friend--persuade him that that woman in his house is a standing danger to his life and liberty." "He would not listen to me." "Oh! a man always listens to another." "Except on one subject--the woman he loves."