change of a few words, they had
bridged the long gap of years, of travel and separation. They expressed
so much in so few words. Rosas, as if invincibly attracted by the name
of Marianne, was the first to pronounce it, while Guy listened with an
impassive air to the duke's interrogations.

In this way they went toward the boulevard, along which the rows of
gas-jets flamed like some grand illumination.

"Paris!" said Rosas, "has a singular effect on one. It resumes its
dominion over one at once on seeing it again, and it seems as if one had
never left it. I have hardly unpacked my trunks, and here I am again
transformed into a Parisian."

"Paris is like absinthe!" said Guy. "As soon as one uncorks the bottle,
one commences to drink it again."

"Absinthe! there you are indeed, you Frenchmen, who everlastingly
calumniate your country. What an idea, comparing Paris with absinthe!"

"A Parisian's idea, _parbleu!_ You have not been here two days and you
are already intoxicated with _Parisine_, you said so yourself. The
hasheesh of the boulevard."

"Perhaps it is not _Parisine_ only that has, in fact, affected my
brain," said Rosas.

"No doubt, it is also the _Parisienne_. Madame Marsy is very pretty."

"Charming," said Rosas coldly.

"Less charming than Mademoiselle Kayser!"

Guy sent a whiff of smoke from his cigar floating on the night breeze,
while awaiting the duke's reply; but Jose pursued his way beside his
friend, without uttering a word, as if he were suddenly absorbed, and
Lissac, who had allowed the conversation to lapse, sought to reopen it:
"Then," he said suddenly,--dropping the name of Mademoiselle
Kayser:--"You will be in Paris for some time, Rosas?"

"I do not in the least know."

"You will not, I hope, set out again for the East?"

"Oh! you know what a strange fellow I am. It won't do to challenge me
to!"

Lissac laughed.

"I don't challenge you at all, I only ask you not to leave the
fortifications hereafter. We shall gain everything. You are not a
Spaniard, you are a born Parisian, as I have already told you a hundred
times. If I were in your place, I would set myself up here and stick to
Paris. Since it is the best place in the world, why look for another?"

"My dear Guy," interrupted the duke, who had not listened, "will you
promise to answer me, with all frankness, a delicate, an absurd
question, if you will, one of those questions that is not generally put,
but which I am going to a