Phoebus interrupted her.
“I do not know what you mean.”
He made a step to re-enter the room, but Fleur-de-Lys, whose jealousy, previously so vividly aroused by this same gypsy, had just been re-awakened, Fleur-de-Lys gave him a look full of penetration and distrust.
She vaguely recalled at that moment having heard of a captain mixed up in the trial of that witch.
“What is the matter with you?” she said to Phoebus, “one would say, that this woman had disturbed you.”
Phoebus forced a sneer, —
“Me! Not the least in the world! Ah! yes, certainly!”
“Remain, then!”