statue of
Sappho, signed 'Dolbiac,' did in feet occupy a prominent place in the
sculpture-room. Henry was impressed; so also was Tom, who explained to
his young cousin all the beauties of the work.

'What else is there to see here?' Henry asked, when the stream of
explanations had slackened.

'Oh, there's nothing much else,' said Tom dejectedly.

They came away. This was the beginning and the end of Henry's studies
in the monuments of Paris.

At the hotel he found opportunity to be alone.

He wished to know exactly where he stood, and which way he was looking.
It was certain that the day had been unlike any other day in his career.

'I suppose that's what they call Bohemia,' he exclaimed wistfully,
solitary in his bedroom.

And then later:

'Jove! I've never written to Geraldine to-day!'

CHAPTER XXV

THE RAKE'S PROGRESS

'_Faites vos jeux, messieurs_,' said the chief croupier of the table.

Henry's fingers touched a solitary five-franc piece in his pocket,
large, massive, seductive.

Yes, he was at Monte Carlo. He could scarcely believe it, but it was so.
Tom had brought him. The curious thing about Tom was that, though he
lied frequently and casually, just as some men hitch their collars, his
wildest statements had a way of being truthful. Thus, a work of his had
in fact been purchased by the French Government and placed on exhibition
in the Luxembourg. And thus he had in fact come to Monte Carlo to paint
a portrait--the portrait of a Sicilian Countess, he said, and Henry
believed, without actually having seen the alleged Countess--at a high
price. There were more complexities in Tom's character than Henry could
unravel. Henry had paid the entire bill at the Grand Hotel, had lent Tom
a sovereign, another sovereign, and a five-pound note, and would
certainly have been mulcted in Tom's fare on the expensive _train de
luxe_ had he not sagaciously demanded money from Tom before entering the
ticket-office. Without being told, Henry knew that money lent to Tom was
money dropped down a grating in the street. During the long journey
southwards Tom had confessed, with a fine appreciation of the fun, that
he lived in Paris until his creditors made Paris disagreeable, and then
went elsewhere, Rome or London, until other creditors made Rome or
London disagreeable, and then he returned to Paris.

Henry had received this remark in silence.

As the train neared Monte Carlo--the hour was roseate and
matut