She seemed to find
something reassuring in his answering glance, and she continued, in
more even tones:
"I had often seen him at the house of Madame Holymead when I came to
London to visit her. I admired Sir Horace when I saw him--often he used
to call and dine, for he was the friend of Monsieur Holymead. But Madame
told me that the great judge was what in England you call a lover of the
ladies--that he was dangerous--so I must be careful of him. I used to
look at him when he called, and thought he was handsome in the English
way, and sometimes he looked at me when he was unobserved, and smiled at
me. But Madame did not like me looking at him; she said I was foolish;
she warned me to be careful."
Gabrielle shrugged her shoulders expressively.
"Of what use was Madame's warning? It did but make me wish to know more
of this great lover of my sex. He saw that, and made the opportunity, and
made love to me. He was so ardent, so fervid a lover that I was
conquered.
"After we had been lovers I told him my secret--that I was married.
Pierre Simon, my husband, was a bad man, and so I left him. But Madame
must not know that I was married, for that is my secret.
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