Chapeau succumbed to tears.
"It's no good talking," said she, greatly softened; "for you can't have
loved me, and treated me as you did this day, letting me walk all alone
from St. Laud, without so much as a word or a look; and that before all
the people: and I that went merely to walk back with you. Oh! I could
have died on the roadside to find myself treated in such a way."
"And what must I have felt to hear you talking as you did before them
all? Do you think I felt nothing?"
"Talking, Jacques; what talk?"
"Why; saying that you loved Cathelineau better than any one. That he was
the only man you admired; that you dreamed of him always, and I don't
know how much more about his eyes and whiskers."
"Why now, Jacques; you don't mean to be jealous?"
"Jealous; no I'm not jealous."
"Jealous of a man you know I never saw," said Annot, smiling through her
tears.
"Jealous. No, I tell you I'm not jealous; but still, one doesn't like
to hear one's mistress talking of another man's eyes, and whiskers, and
those sort of things; no man would like it, Annot; though I care about
it as little myself as any man.
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