She said all this rapidly in one breath and at the end had a sort
of anxious gasp which gave me the opportunity to voice my surprise.
It was immense.
"That lady, the strange lady, spoke to you of your sister first!" I
cried.
"The lady asked me, after she had been in a little time, whether
really this house belonged to Madame de Lastaola. She had been so
sweet and kind and condescending that I did not mind humiliating my
spirit before such a good Christian. I told her that I didn't know
how the poor sinner in her mad blindness called herself, but that
this house had been given to me truly enough by my sister. She
raised her eyebrows at that but she looked at me at the same time
so kindly, as much as to say, 'Don't trust much to that, my dear
girl,' that I couldn't help taking up her hand, soft as down, and
kissing it. She took it away pretty quick but she was not
offended. But she only said, 'That's very generous on your
sister's part,' in a way that made me run cold all over. I suppose
all the world knows our Rita for a shameless girl. It was then
that the lady took up those glasses on a long gold handle and
looked at me through them till I felt very much abashed. She said
to me, 'There is nothing to be unhappy about. Madame de Lastaola
is a very remarkable person who has done many surprising things.
She is not to be judged like other people and as far as I know she
has never wronged a single human being. . . .' That put heart into
me, I can tell you; and the lady told me then not to disturb her
son. She would wait till he woke up. She knew he was a bad
sleeper. I said to her: 'Why, I can hear the dear sweet gentleman
this moment having his bath in the fencing-room,' and I took her
into the studio. They are there now and they are going to have
their lunch together at twelve o'clock."
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