ry well as I am."

"Happy?"

"Yes; at least I should be, if it were not for Struboff. He annoys me
very much. You know, it's like an ugly picture in the room, or a dog one
hates. He doesn't say or do much, but he's there always. It frets me."

"Madame, my sympathy is extreme."

"Oh, your sympathy! You're laughing at me. I don't care. You're going to
be married yourself."

"What you imply is not very reassuring."

"It's all a question of what one expects," she said with a shrug.

"My wife won't mind me touching her bread?" I asked anxiously.

"Oh, no, she won't mind that. You're not like that. Oh, no, it won't be
in that way."

"I declare I'm much comforted."

"Indeed you needn't fear that. In some things all women are alike. You
needn't fear anything of that sort. No woman could feel that about you."

"I grow happier every moment. I shouldn't have liked Elsa to cut herself
another slice."

Coralie laughed, sniffed the roses I had brought, and laughed again, as
she said:

"In fact I do. I remember it now. I didn't mean to be rude; it came
natural to do it; as if the piece had fallen on the floor, you know."

Evidently Struboff had analyzed his wife's feelings very correctly. I
doubted both the use and the possibility of enlightening her as to his.
Kisses were not in the bargain, she would say. After all, the desire for
affection was something of an incongruity in Struboff, an alien weed
trespassing on the ground meant for music and for money. I could hardly
blame her for refusing to foster the intruder. I felt that I should be
highly unjust if, later on, I laid any blame on Elsa for not satisfying
a desire for affection should I chance to feel such a thing. And as to
the bread Coralie had quite reassured me. I looked at her. She was
smiling in quiet amusement. Evidently her fancy was tickled by the
matter of the bread.

"You notice a thing like that," she said. "But he doesn't. Imagine his
noticing it!"

"I can imagine it very well."

"Oh no, impossible. He has no sensibility. You laugh? Well, yes, perhaps
it's lucky."

During the next two or three days I was engaged almost unintermittently
with business which followed me from home, and had no opportunity of
seeing more of my friends. I regretted this the less, because I seemed
now to be possessed of the state of affairs. I resigned myself to the
necessity of a speedy return to Forstadt. Already Bederhof was in
despair at my absence, and excuses f