"Yvonne, _chère_, you know, we are the cause of this. 'Tis biccause
juz'--you and me. And she's gone yonder juz' for one thing; to be as
far from her _misérie_ as she can."
"Yes, _chère_, I billieve that. I think even, she muz' not see us when
she's riturning." No footfall sounded, but the cat came in, tail up,
purring. Back in their chamber, with wet cheeks on its unlatched door,
the sisters listened.
"I know what we muz' do, Yvonne, as soon as to-morrow. Tha'z strange I
never saw that biffo'!"
Cupid came and was let in. "She was al-lone, of co'se?" the pair asked
from the edge of their bed.
"Oh, yass'm, o' co'se; in a manneh, yass'm."
"_Mon dieu_! li'l boy. In a manner? But how in a manner? Al-lone is
al-lone! What she was doing?"
"Is I got to tell dat?"
"Ah, '_tit garçon_! Have you not got to tell it?"
"Well, she 'uz--she 'uz prayin'."
"And tha'z the manner she was not al-lone?"
"Yas'm, dass all." The little fellow dropped to his knees, clutched a
knee of either questioner, and wept and sobbed.