"It is true," said La Goualeuse, blushing. "That has the appearance of nothing! But, at that moment you looked so unhappy--so unhappy, that I felt myself all heartache--every feeling stirred up. Say now? do you think this is amusing? I have always been as hard as a rock about everything concerning myself. No one can boast of ever having seen me weep; and it must be that in looking at your little face I should feel cowardice at my heart! Yes, for all that is pure cowardice; and the proof is, that for three days I have not dared to write to Martial, my conscience accuses me so much. Yes, keeping company with you has weakened my character; it must stop; I have enough of it; I wish to remain as I am, and not have people laugh at me." "Why should they laugh at you?" "Because they would see me acting a stupid good-natured part, who made them all tremble here! No, no, I am twenty; I am as handsome as you, in my style; I am wicked; I am feared, and that's what I want. I laugh at the rest. Perish all who say the contrary!" "You are angry with me, La Louve!" "Yes, you are for me a bad acquaintance; if this is continued, in fifteen days, instead of being called Wolf, they will call me Sheep. Thank you! it's not me they'll baptize so. Martial would kill me. In short, I want none of your company; I am going to ask to be put in another hall; if they refuse, I'll flare up so that they will put me in the dungeon until my time is out. That's what I have to say to you, La Goualeuse." "I assure you, La Louve," said Fleur-de-Marie, "that you feel an interest in me, not because you are soft, but because you are generous--brave hearts alone feel the misfortunes of others." "There is neither generosity nor courage in this," said La Louve, brutally; "it is cowardice. Besides, I do not wish you to tell me that I am touched--softened; it is not true." "I will not say so any more, La Louve; but since you have shown some interest for me, you will let me be grateful to you for it, will you not?" "To-night I shall be in another hall from you, or alone in the dungeon; and soon I shall be away from here." "And where will you go?" "Home; Rue Pierre Lescot. I have my own furnished room." "And Martial!" said La Goualeuse, who hoped to continue the conversation by speaking of an object interesting to her; "you'll be very happy to see him?" "Yes; oh, yes!" answered she. "When I was arrested he was recovering from sickness--a fever which he had, because he is always on the water. For sixteen or seventeen nights I never left him for a moment. I sold half that I possessed to pay for a doctor and medicines. I can boast of it; and I do boast of it. If my man lives, he owes it to me. I yesterday burned a candle before the Virgin for him. It is foolish; but never mind, some very good effects have proceeded from this, for he is convalescent." "Where is he now? what does he do?" "He lives near the Asnieres Bridge, on the shore." "On the shore?"