a finger on her lips to beg him to be silent. She
could see he was very much exalted, and yet she was glad to have met
him, for she still felt tenderly toward him, and that despite the nasty
way he had cut her when in the company of fashionable ladies.

"What are you doing now?" she asked amicably.

"Becoming respectable. Yes indeed, I'm thinking of getting married."

She shrugged her shoulders with a pitying air. But he jokingly continued
to the effect that to be only just gaining enough on 'change to buy
ladies bouquets could scarcely be called an income, provided you wanted
to look respectable too! His three hundred thousand francs had only
lasted him eighteen months! He wanted to be practical, and he was going
to marry a girl with a huge dowry and end off as a PREFET, like his
father before him! Nana still smiled incredulously. She nodded in the
direction of the saloon: "Who are you with in there?"

"Oh, a whole gang," he said, forgetting all about his projects under
the influence of returning intoxication. "Just think! Lea is telling us
about her trip in Egypt. Oh, it's screaming! There's a bathing story--"

And he told the story while Nana lingered complaisantly. They had ended
by leaning up against the wall in the corridor, facing one another. Gas
jets were flaring under the low ceiling, and a vague smell of cookery
hung about the folds of the hangings. Now and again, in order to hear
each other's voices when the din in the saloon became louder than ever,
they had to lean well forward. Every few seconds, however, a waiter with
an armful of dishes found his passage barred and disturbed them. But
they did not cease their talk for that; on the contrary, they stood
close up to the walls and, amid the uproar of the supper party and the
jostlings of the waiters, chatted as quietly as if they were by their
own firesides.

"Just look at that," whispered the young man, pointing to the door of
the private room through which Muffat had vanished.

Both looked. The door was quivering slightly; a breath of air seemed to
be disturbing it, and at last, very, very slowly and without the least
sound, it was shut to. They exchanged a silent chuckle. The count must
be looking charmingly happy all alone in there!

"By the by," she asked, "have you read Fauchery's article about me?"

"Yes, 'The Golden Fly,'" replied Daguenet; "I didn't mention it to you
as I was afraid of paining you."

"Paining me--why? His article's a ver