Josephine pointed to it
without a word.
Rose got a little cross at being practically confuted, and said coldly,
"Come, let us go in; the only cocked hat we can see is on the way to
Paris."
Josephine assented eagerly. But she had not taken two steps towards the
house ere she altered her mind, and said she felt faint, she wanted air;
no, she should stay out a little longer. "Look, Rose," said she, in a
strangely excited way, "what a shame! They put all manner of rubbish
into this dear old tree: I will have it all turned out." And she looked
with feigned interest into the tree: but her eyes seemed turned inward.
Rose gave a cry of surprise. "He is waving his hat to me! What on earth
does that mean?"
"Perhaps he takes you for me," said Josephine.
"Who is it? What do you mean?"
"IT IS HE! I knew his figure at a glance." And she blushed and trembled
with joy; she darted behind the tree and peered round at him unseen:
turning round a moment she found Rose at her back pale and stern. She
looked at her, and said with terrible simplicity, "Ah, Rose, I forgot.
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