's quant a
soi. And when one hears good talk one can join in it without
compromising any opinions but one's own; or one can listen, and answer
it inwardly. Ah, good conversation--there's nothing like it, is there?
The air of ideas is the only air worth breathing. And so I have never
regretted giving up either diplomacy or journalism--two different forms
of the same self-abdication." He fixed his vivid eyes on Archer as he
lit another cigarette. "Voyez-vous, Monsieur, to be able to look life
in the face: that's worth living in a garret for, isn't it? But, after
all, one must earn enough to pay for the garret; and I confess that to
grow old as a private tutor--or a 'private' anything--is almost as
chilling to the imagination as a second secretaryship at Bucharest.
Sometimes I feel I must make a plunge: an immense plunge. Do you
suppose, for instance, there would be any opening for me in America--in
New York?"

Archer looked at him with startled eyes. New York, for a young man who
had frequented the Goncourts and Flaubert, and who thought the life of
ideas the only one worth living! He continued to stare at M. Riviere
perplexedly, wondering how to tell him that his very superiorities and
advantages would be the surest hindrance to success.

"New York--New York--but must it be especially New York?" he stammered,
utterly unable to imagine what lucrative opening his native city could
offer to a young man to whom good conversation appeared to be the only
necessity.

A sudden flush rose under M. Riviere's sallow skin. "I--I thought it
your metropolis: is not the intellectual life more active there?" he
rejoined; then, as if fearing to give his hearer the impression of
having asked a favour, he went on hastily: "One throws out random
suggestions--more to one's self than to others. In reality, I see no
immediate prospect--" and rising from his seat he added, without a
trace of constraint: "But Mrs. Carfry will think that I ought to be
taking you upstairs."

During the homeward drive Archer pondered deeply on this episode. His
hour with M. Riviere had put new air into his lungs, and his first
impulse had been to invite him to dine the next day; but he was
beginning to understand why married men did not always immediately
yield to their first impulses.

"That young tutor is an interesting fellow: we had some awfully good
talk after dinner about books and things," he threw out tentatively in
the hansom.

May