he
was startled from his conning of the afternoon paper by seeing Krafft
before him. The latter, who carried his beer-mug in his hand, took the
vacated scat, nodded and smiled.

Maurice was on his guard at once; for it seemed to him that they were
being watched by the party Krafft had left. Putting down the newspaper,
he wished his friend good-evening.

"I've something to say to you," said Krafft without responding, and,
having drained his glass, he clapped the lid to attract the waiter's
attention.

With the over-anxious readiness to oblige, which was becoming one of
his most marked traits, and, in reality, cloaked a deathly
indifference, Maurice hung up his paper, and sat forward to listen.
Crossing his arms on the table, Krafft began to speak, meanwhile fixing
his companion with his eye. Maurice was at first too bewildered by what
he heard to know to whom the words referred. Then, the colour mounted
to his face; the nerves in his temples began to throb; and his hand
moved along the edge of the table, in search of something to which it
could hold fast.--It was the first time the name of Louise had been
mentioned between them--and in what a tone!

"Heinz!" he said at last; his voice seemed not to be his own. "How dare
you speak of Miss Dufrayer like that!"

"PARDON!" said Krafft; his flushed, transparent cheeks were aglow, his
limpid eyes shone like stars. "Do you mean Lulu?"

Maurice grew pale. "Mind what you're saying!"

Krafft took a gulp of beer. "Are you afraid of the truth?--But just one
word, and I'm done. You no doubt knew, as every one else did, that Lulu
was Schilsky's mistress. What you didn't know, was this;" and now,
without the least attempt at palliation, without a single extenuating
word, there fell from his lips the quick and witty narration of an
episode in which Louise and he had played the chief parts. It was the
keynote of their relations to each other: the story, grossly told, of a
woman's unsatisfied fancy.

Before the pitiless details, not one of which was spared him, were
checked off, Maurice understood; half rising from his chair, he struck
Krafft a resounding blow in the face. He had intended to hit the mouth,
but, his hand remaining fully open, caught on the cheek, and with such
force that the delicate skin instantly bore a white imprint of all five
fingers.

Only the people in their immediate neighbourhood saw what had happened;
but these sprang up; a girl gave a nervous cry; an