empty opposite the other. Then she murmured, as she viewed the
result: "How glad I am. My mantelpiece is furnished now." She added
almost immediately, in a tone of conviction: "You know Vaudrec is
awfully nice; you will be friends with him at once."

A ring announced the Count. He entered quietly, and quite at his ease,
as though at home. After having gallantly kissed the young wife's
fingers, he turned to the husband and cordially held out his hand,
saying: "How goes it, my dear Du Roy?"

It was no longer his former stiff and starched bearing, but an affable
one, showing that the situation was no longer the same. The journalist,
surprised, strove to make himself agreeable in response to these
advances. It might have been believed within five minutes that they had
known and loved one another for ten years past.

Then Madeleine, whose face was radiant, said: "I will leave you
together, I must give a look to my dinner." And she went out, followed
by a glance from both men. When she returned she found them talking
theatricals apropos of a new piece, and so thoroughly of the same
opinion that a species of rapid friendship awoke in their eyes at the
discovery of this absolute identity of ideas.

The dinner was delightful, so intimate and cordial, and the Count stayed
on quite late, so comfortable did he feel in this nice little new
household.

As soon as he had left Madeleine said to her husband: "Is he not
perfect? He gains in every way by being known. He is a true
friend--safe, devoted, faithful. Ah, without him--"

She did not finish the sentence, and George replied: "Yes, I find him
very agreeable. I think that we shall get on very well together."

She resumed: "You do not know, but we have some work to do together
before going to bed. I had not time to speak to you about it before
dinner, because Vaudrec came in at once. I have had some important news,
news from Morocco. It was Laroche-Mathieu, the deputy, the future
minister, who brought it to me. We must work up an important article, a
sensational one. I have the facts and figures. We will set to work at
once. Bring the lamp."

He took it, and they passed into the study. The same books were ranged
in the bookcase, which now bore on its summit the three vases bought at
the Golfe Juan by Forestier on the eve of his death. Under the table the
dead man's mat awaited the feet of Du Roy, who, on sitting down, took up
an ivory penholder slightly gnawed at the end by