CHAPTER X.

At this same late hour the boudoir of the singer, whose acquaintance we
made at the Pagoda, looked very bright and cheerful. A candelabrum with
five candles was burning on the daintily spread table, at which the gay
beauty sat with her friend, resting on her laurels after the first
night of a new opera.

"You were charming to-night, Adele," said Marquard, as he pushed back a
plate filled with oyster shells and rose to light a cigar at the
candelabrum. "Really, loveliest of witches, you improve in each new
part, and I shan't be surprised if one day you outgrow even me. But
you've one talent that compels my highest esteem: I admire it even more
than your acting, your singing, or the black art by which you make a
whole audience madly in love with you."

"And that is?"

"Your talent for eating oysters. You laugh, Adelina. But I'm perfectly
serious, believe me. I would engage to describe the mind and heart of
any woman with whom I had been ten minutes without any other knowledge
of her than eating oysters together, and never make a mistake--with the
sole stipulation that it's not her first essay in the noble art, when
even the most gifted person may set about it awkwardly."

"Well, and wherein does my merit in this direction consist?"

"First call Jenny and let her carry away the bouquets which have been
thrown to you to-day. The odor of champagne, Havanas, oysters and roses
all at once, are too much of a good thing and we shall have the
headache. Besides, I'm far from being vain enough to think the couch of
a beautiful girl softer, because it's strewn with rose leaves bestowed
by less fortunate admirers."

"You're terribly _blase_!" laughed the singer. "If you were not so
amusing, I'd have discarded you long ago. But be quick, tell me your
oyster theory."

"No," he answered with a calm smile, leaning comfortably back on the
little sofa; "some other time. The subject's more profound than you
suppose. All themes which trench on the boundaries between the sensual
and the intellectual are very subtle, and I've too much scientific
knowledge to make short work of such delicate things. Besides, directly
after your declaration that you only tolerate me because I'm amusing, I
should be a fool to deliver a lecture on the physiology of enjoyment,
instead of giving a practical illustration of the subject. You may do
me the favor of taking off your head-dress, child. You know I've a
foolis