and let me hear no
more of him."

"You don't love him, then?" asked the old fellow, surprised at this
amiable frankness.

"Listen, sir. I have loved him a great deal, but everything has an
end. For four years, I, who am so fond of pleasure, have passed an
intolerable existence. If Noel doesn't leave me, I shall be obliged to
leave him. I am tired of having a lover who is ashamed of me and who
despises me."

"If he despises you, my pretty lady, he scarcely shows it here," replied
old Tabaret, casting a significant glance about the room.

"You mean," said she rising, "that he spends a great deal of money on
me. It's true. He pretends that he has ruined himself on my account;
it's very possible. But what's that to me! I am not a grabbing
woman; and I would much have preferred less money and more regard. My
extravagance has been inspired by anger and want of occupation. M. Gerdy
treats me like a mercenary woman; and so I act like one. We are quits."

"You know very well that he worships you."

"He? I tell you he is ashamed of me. He hides me as though I were some
horrible disease. You are the first of his friends to whom I have ever
spoken. Ask him how often he takes me out. One would think that my
presence dishonoured him. Why, no longer ago than last Tuesday, we went
to the theatre! He hired an entire box. But do you think that he sat
in it with me? Not at all. He slipped away and I saw no more of him the
whole evening."

"How so? Were you obliged to return home alone?"

"No. At the end of the play, towards midnight, he deigned to reappear.
We had arranged to go to the masked ball at the Opera and then to have
some supper. Ah, it was amusing! At the ball, he didn't dare to let down
his hood, or take off his mask. At supper, I had to treat him like a
perfect stranger, because some of his friends were present."

This, then, was the _alibi_ prepared in case of trouble. Juliette, had
she been less carried away by her own feelings, would have noticed old
Tabaret's emotion, and would certainly have held her tongue. He was
perfectly livid, and trembled like a leaf.

"Well," he said, making a great effort to utter the words, "the supper,
I suppose, was none the less gay for that."

"Gay!" echoed the young woman, shrugging her shoulders; "you do not seem
to know much of your friend. If you ever ask him to dinner, take good
care not to give him anything to drink. Wine makes him as merry as a
funeral procession. At th