ting to a woman!
Ho, it starts well:

"'_My own darling adored one, how long the hours seem when I
await._'"...

Captain Brocq shouted with laughter.

"Ah, here's a joke! Why, it is you who are jealous now!"

Bobinette questioned him with a look. He explained:

"But, you great idiot, don't you understand that I was writing to you,
and that only a couple of hours ago! You know I am always afraid you
will not come to our meeting-place, and you are always late!"

Bobinette, reassured, now helped Brocq to go through his drawer
methodically.

There could be no doubt of it--the captain was a most untidy man.
Family letters, papers covered with figures, handwritten military
documents, even some bank-notes, were jumbled together in great
disorder.

Bobinette noticed her own handwriting on some sheets of paper. How
well she knew them!

She feigned anger. "It is abominable to compromise me like this!" she
cried. "See! My letters! Love letters! Intimate letters lying about
like this! No, decidedly!"...

Brocq put her right. "No, no, my pet! Your precious letters are most
carefully preserved by me--put together--see--there they are--there
are not many of them--but not one is missing!"

"You are sure of that?"

"I swear it."

Bobinette reflected. The captain, however, returned to the adjoining
room, hoping to come across the deed of gift he had set his mind on
finding. "Come with me, Bobe!" he called. He opened a little writing
desk. He thought his mistress had followed him, but she had remained
in the study.

"Bobinette!" he called again, astonished to find himself alone.

She lingered.

Brocq went back.

He collided with the girl who, with a furtive gesture, slipped
something into her muff.

"Well," said he.

"Well, what now?" she retorted.

They gazed at each other for a moment in silence.

"What were you doing?" questioned Brocq suspiciously.

"Nothing," answered Bobinette coldly.

But the captain caught hold of her hands. He was uneasy, almost angry:
"Tell me!"

The red-haired beauty jumped back with a defiant air: "Very well,
then! I have taken my letters, they belong to me! I wish to have them!
It disgusts me to think that they are left lying about your rooms. Do
you think it funny that your orderly should read them to his
country-woman? That your concierge should know all about them? I
declare men like you have not a scrap of tact, of nice feeling!"

"Bobinette!" the captain implored her.