"No, madame, I assure you that he no longer detests me. When a man grows old, he remembers the happy days of his youth much more vividly than the troubles of his maturer years; the latter are effaced in the jolting and hurly-burly of life; the first remain and rise to the surface, to divert our thoughts, to charm our memories--and that is why I believe that De Brevanne no longer detests me.--What I say surprises you--you do not agree with me; but women do not understand friendship!" "You have an amusing way of practising it! However, how do you propose to prevent this duel?" "As I have prevented it for twenty years; I propose to elude the count's search. I have moved already; I no longer live in furnished lodgings, and I should be very much astonished if he should find me where I am now." Madame de Grangeville said nothing more; Roncherolle seemed to reflect; and the ex-lovers were silent for a considerable time. At last the gouty gentleman put out his hand toward his hat, and seemed about to go, when his former friend detained him, saying with some hesitation: "Monsieur de Roncherolle, I have something to say to you on another subject of--of deep interest to us both." "A subject of interest to us both?" repeated Roncherolle, replacing his hat on the table; "you surprise me; I thought that we no longer had anything of interest to say to each other. What is it all about?" "You must have a very short memory, monsieur, since it is necessary for me to remind you of that--that result of our liaison--of our wrong-doing, alas!" "Ah, yes! thrice alas!" "Well, monsieur, that child, that little girl--for it was a girl--tell me, monsieur, what became of her? Formerly, when I questioned you on that subject, you always answered: 'Don't be disturbed, I know where she is, we shall find her again.'--But that was more than twelve years ago, monsieur, and it seems to me that it is high time that I should know what became of that child!" Roncherolle moved about on the _causeuse_ as he replied: "Yes, yes, that is very true; there is the subject of the little girl; I had forgotten about her entirely, and you will understand in a moment why I had forgotten her; it was because it would have done no good to think of her, for I have no idea what became of her after I put her out to nurse." "You don't know what became of her! why, that is abominable, monsieur, it is frightful; you break my heart!" "No fine words, my dear friend. I beg you; with me, as you must know, they will miss their effect; I break nothing at all of yours; for if you had chosen to be a mother, to know and to enjoy the happiness which that title affords, you would not have begun by begging me to rid you of your child as soon as possible the instant that it came into the world." "Monsieur, that is not true; you insult me, you slander me!"