"You have stumbled on a truth of life, madame." Suddenly there came into his look something of the yearning and hunger which the lonely and forsaken feel when they are not on the full tide of doing.

It was as though he must have companionship, in spite of his brave announcement that he must fight his fight alone.

He had been wounded in the battle, and here was one who held out the hand of healing to him.

Never since his wife had left him the long lonely years ago had a woman meant anything to him except as one of a race; but in this moment here a woman had held his hand, and he could feel still the warm palm which had comforted his own agitated fingers.
Virginie Poucette saw, and she understood what was passing in his mind.
Yet she did not see and understand all by any means; and it is hard to tell what further show of fire there might have been, but that the Clerk of the Court was there, saying harshly under his breath, "The huzzy! The crafty huzzy!" The Clerk of the Court was wrong.

Virginie was merely sentimental, not intriguing or deceitful; for Jean Jacques was not a widower--and she was an honest woman and genuinely tender-hearted.
"I'm coming to the Manor Cartier to-morrow," Virginie continued.