"You are grave.

Are you thinking of your sins ?" "When I think of those, Mademoiselle, I laugh.

It is when I think of you that I am grave." "Thank you." "So I am always grave, you understand." She glanced quickly, not at him but toward him, and then continued her lace-making, with the ghost of a smile tilting the corners of her lips.
"It is because I have something to tell you." "A secret ?" she inquired, and she continued to smile, but differently, and her eyes hardened almost to resentment.
"Yes; a secret.

It is a secret only known to two other people in the world besides myself.

And they will never let you know even that they share it with you, Mademoiselle." "Then they are not women," she said, with a sudden laugh.