"But I am ungrateful.

La Cigarette here--she has been so good, so tender, so pitiful.

For once I have almost not missed you!" Cigarette, thus alluded to, sprang to her feet with her head tossed back, and all her cynicism back again; a hot color was on her cheeks, the light had passed from her face, she struck her white teeth together.
She had thought "Bel-a-faire-peur" chained to his regiment in the field of maneuver, or she would never have come thither to tend his friend.
She had felt happy in her self-sacrifice; she had grown into a gentle, pensive, merciful mood, singing here by the side of the dying soldier, and now the first thing she heard was of the charities of Mme.

la Princesse! That was all her reward! Cigarette received the recompense that usually comes to generous natures which have strung themselves to some self-surrender that costs them dear.
Cecil looked at her surprised, and smiled.
"Ma belle, is it you?
That is, indeed, good.

You were the good angel of my life the other night, and to-day come to bring consolation to my friend--" "Good angel! Chut, M.Victor! One does not know those mots sucres in Algiers.