so
lacking in sympathy. He took his revenge by teasing her about the
wedding presents which were still flowing in. Her father's business
friends were still striving to outdo one another in the costliness of
the jewelry they were giving her. The great houses of the Faubourg
Saint-Germain were still refraining firmly from anything that savoured
of extravagance or ostentation. While he was with her the eleventh
paper-knife came--from his mother's friend, the Duchess of Veauleglise.
The Duke was overwhelmed with joy at the sight of it, and his delighted
comments drove Germaine to the last extremity of exasperation. The
result was that she begged him, with petulant asperity, to get out of
her sight.

He complied with her request, almost with alacrity, and returned to M.
Formery and Guerchard. He found them at a standstill, waiting for
reports from the detectives who were hunting outside the house for
information about the movements of the burglars with the stolen booty,
and apparently finding none. The police were also hunting for the
stolen motor-cars, not only in Paris and its environs, but also all
along the road between Paris and Charmerace.

At about five o'clock Guerchard grew tired of the inaction, and went
out himself to assist his subordinates, leaving M. Formery in charge of
the house itself. He promised to be back by half-past seven, to let the
examining magistrate, who had an engagement for the evening, get away.
The Duke spent his time between the drawing-room, where M. Formery
entertained him with anecdotes of his professional skill, and the
boudoir, where Germaine was entertaining envious young friends who came
to see her wedding presents. The friends of Germaine were always a
little ill at ease in the society of the Duke, belonging as they did to
that wealthy middle class which has made France what she is. His
indifference to the doings of the old friends of his family saddened
them; and they were unable to understand his airy and persistent
trifling. It seemed to them a discord in the cosmic tune.

The afternoon wore away, and at half-past seven Guerchard had not
returned. M. Formery waited for him, fuming, for ten minutes, then left
the house in charge of the inspector, and went off to his engagement.
M. Gournay-Martin was entertaining two financiers and their wives, two
of their daughters, and two friends of the Duke, the Baron de Vernan
and the Comte de Vauvineuse, at dinner that night. Thanks to the D