on
the sofa she lay, her head resting luxuriously on the cushions and her
bosom rising and falling in gentle regular breathing. The affair had not
been interesting enough to keep Coralie awake. But now Vohrenlorf shut
the door rather noisily; she opened her eyes, stretched her arms and
yawned.

"Ah! You've done quarrelling?" she asked.

"Absolutely. We're all friends again, and have come to say farewell."

"Well, I'm very sleepy," said she, with much resignation. "Go and sleep
well, my friends."

"We're forgiven for our bad manners?"

"Oh, but you were very amusing. You're all going home now?"

"So we propose, mademoiselle."

Her eyes chanced to fall on Wetter. She pointed her finger at him and
began to laugh.

"What makes you as pale as a ghost, my friend?" she asked.

"It's late; I'm tired," he answered lamely and awkwardly.

She turned a shrewd glance on me. I smiled composedly.

"Ah, well, it's no affair of mine," she said.

In turn we took farewell of her and of madame. But, as I was going out,
she called me.

"In a minute, Vohrenlorf," I cried, waving my hand toward the door. The
rest passed out. Madame had wandered restlessly to the fireplace at the
other end of the room. I returned to Coralie's sofa.

"You're going too?" she asked.

"Certainly," said I. "I must rest. I have to rise early, and it's close
on two o'clock."

"You don't look sleepy."

"I depart from duty, not from inclination."

"You'll come to see me to-morrow?"

"If I possibly can. Could you doubt it?"

"And why might you possibly not be able?"

"I am a man of many occupations."

"Yes. Quarrelling with Wetter is one."

"Indeed that's all over."

"I'm not sure I believe you."

"You reduce me to despair. How can I convince you?"

Madame Briande walked suddenly to the door and went out. I heard her
invite Vohrenlorf to take a glass of cognac, and his ready acceptance.
Coralie was sitting on the sofa now, looking at me curiously.

"I have liked you very much," she said slowly. "You are a good fellow, a
good friend. I don't know how it is--I feel uncomfortable to-night. Will
you draw back a curtain and open a window? It's hot."

I obeyed her; the cool night air rushed in on us, fresh and delicious.
She drew her legs up sideways on the sofa, clasping her ankles with her
hand.

"Don't you know," she cried impatiently, "how sometimes one is
uncomfortable and doesn't know why? It seems as though something was
going to