to the quay. No one realised what he was doing until it was too late and the money was wagered and lost.”
“And because of that Marie’s fiancé would not marry her?” Fleur cried in horror. “How despicable and how mean!”
“But how could he without her dot? He had depended on it, you see, the sum had been arranged. And there was another girl who had always wanted him. She was wealthy and her parents were anxious for the match.”
“They were married within three months and then Marie went away to service to the Comtesse. She was lucky to find such a position and we have often envied her.”
“Envied her!” Fleur exclaimed. “When she might have been married with a home of her own. How could you?”
“It was a privilege to serve anyone so gracious as the Comtesse. Often she would send us little messages. Once, when my children were ill, we received a present of money and fruit from the estate. We were very proud of the connection. Marie certainly did well for herself.”
Fleur knew that there was nothing she could say, but she felt as if the dress that she wore was the expression of a tragedy beyond words, a tragedy of a life broken and ruined by greed.
“And now, mademoiselle – ”
Fleur interrupted Madame Bouvais.
“Is it not unwise to call me ‘mademoiselle’?” she asked. “Perhaps while I am here I had better be just ‘Jeanne’.”
“It seems wrong somehow, rather too familiar.”
“Not really,” Fleur replied. “Not when you think of what you are doing for me.”
Madame Bouvais smiled and her smile was curiously sweet.
“We are glad to do it,” she said quietly, “even though you must forgive me if it makes me sometimes a little afraid.”
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