chairs, got out a cigar, lighted
it, and sat for some moments looking around at this wilderness of
gimcracks.

"Pelletan, you're a humbug," he said at last. "You came to me yesterday
and said your last franc was gone."

"Unt so it wass, monsieur."

"But this collection ought to be worth something."

"Monsieur means t'at it might pe sold?"

"Undoubtedly."

"But monsieur does not know--does not understand. Tis--all t'is--iss my
life; eet iss here t'at I liff--not out t'ere," with a gesture of
disgust toward the door. "I could no more liff wit'out t'is t'an wit'out
my head!"

Rushford, looking at him curiously, saw that he was in deadly earnest.

"Really," he said, "you surprise me, Pelletan. I had never suspected in
you such depth of soul."

"Besides, monsieur," added Pelletan, leaning forward, "t'ese t'ings are
not all what t'ey seem--t'is dragon, par exemple, ees not off bronze,
but off t'e plaster of Paris--yet I lofe eet none t'e less--more,
perhaps, because off t'at fery fact."

"And these--ah--females," said Rushford, and waved his hand at the
serried photographs, "I suppose even they are necessary to your
existence."

"I lofe to look at t'em, monsieur," confessed Pelletan.

"Personal acquaintances, perhaps."

"Not all of t'em, monsieur; but t'ey haf about t'em t'e flavour off
Paris--off t'at tear Paris off which I tream each night; t'ey recall t'e
tays off my yout'!"

"Oh, are you a Parisian? I should never have suspected it. Your
accent--"

"I am off Elsass, monsieur. It wass, perhaps, for t'at reason t'at Paris
so won my heart."

"If I were as fond of the place as all that," observed Rushford,
laughing, "I'd have stayed there."

"It proke my heart to leafe," murmured Pelletan. "T'at is why I lofe all
t'is," and he motioned to the walls, and kissed his hand to a
voluptuous siren with red hair. "T'at is Ernes tine. Tonight she will
take her part at t'e Alcazar; at t'e toor a friend will meet her unt
t'ey will go toget'er down t'e Champs-Elysees to t'e grand boulevard,
where t'ey sit in front of Pousset's and trink t'eir wine unt eau
sucree. T'ey will watch t'e crowds, t'ey will greet t'eir friends, t'ey
will exchange t'e tay's news. T'en t'ey will go to tinner--six or eight
of t'em toget'er--een a leetle room at Maxime's, where t'ey can make so
much noise as pleases t'em--only I will not pe t'ere--in all t'at great
city, nowhere will I pe! Unt I am missed, monsieur, no more t'an iss a
grai