The Works of Guy de Maupassant - LightNovelsOnl.com
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She nodded, still without opening her lips.
"Where is it you come from?"
She appeared to be thinking, to be searching her memory, then said falteringly:
"From Perpignan."
He was once more perfectly satisfied, and said:
"Ah! yes."
In her turn she asked:
"And you, are you a sailor?"
"Yes, my beauty."
"Do you come from a distance?"
"Ah! yes. I have seen countries, ports, and everything."
"You have been round the world, perhaps?"
"I believe you, twice rather than once."
Again she seemed to hesitate, to search in her brain for something that she had forgotten, then, in a tone somewhat different, more serious:
"Have you met many s.h.i.+ps in your voyages?"
"I believe you, my beauty."
"You did not happen to see the _Notre Dame des Vents_?"
He chuckled:
"No later than last week."
She turned pale, all the blood leaving her cheeks, and asked:
"Is that true, perfectly true?"
"'Tis true as I tell you."
"Honor bright! you are not telling me a lie?"
He raised his hand.
"Before G.o.d, I'm not!" said he.
"Then do you know whether Celestin Duclos is still on her?"
He was astonished, uneasy, and wished, before answering, to learn something further.
"Do you know him?"
She became distrustful in turn.
"Oh! 'tis not myself--'tis a woman who is acquainted with him."
"A woman from this place?"
"No, from a place not far off."
"In the street?"
"What sort of a woman?"
"Why, then, a woman--a woman like myself."
"What has she to say to him, this woman?"
"I believe she is a country-woman of his."
They stared into one another's hand, watching one another, feeling, divining that something of a grave nature was going to arise between them.
He resumed:
"I could see her there, this woman."
"What would you say to her?"
"I would say to her--I would say to her--that I had seen Celestin Duclos."
"He is quite well--isn't he?"
"As well as you or me--he is a strapping young fellow."
She became silent again, trying to collect her ideas; then slowly:
"Where has the _Notre Dame des Vents_ gone to?"
"Why, just to Ma.r.s.eilles."
She could not repress a start.
"Is that really true?"
"'Tis really true."