rather ashamed of his vermicelli, which he mixed
with bread and soused with oil as people do in the South of France.
However, he was still breaking the chocolate into bits, when he uttered
a cry of surprise, 'What, already?'

It was Christine, who had pushed back the screen, and who appeared
looking neat and correct in her black dress, duly laced and buttoned
up, equipped, as it were, in a twinkle. Her rosy face did not even show
traces of the water, her thick hair was twisted in a knot at the back
of her head, not a single lock out of place. And Claude remained
open-mouthed before that miracle of quickness, that proof of feminine
skill in dressing well and promptly.

'The deuce, if you go about everything in that way!' said he.

He found her taller and handsomer than he had fancied. But what struck
him most was her look of quiet decision. She was evidently no longer
afraid of him. It seemed as though she had re-donned her armour and
become an amazon again. She smiled and looked him straight in the face.
Whereupon he said what he was still reluctant to say:

'You'll breakfast with me, won't you?'

But she refused the offer. 'No, thank you. I am going to the station,
where my trunk must have arrived by now, and then I shall drive to
Passy.'

It was in vain that he told her that she must be hungry, that it was
unreasonable for her to go out without eating something.

'Well, if you won't, I'll go down and fetch you a cab,' he ended by
exclaiming.

'Pray don't take such trouble.'

'But you can't go such a distance on foot. Let me at least take you to
the cabstand, as you don't know Paris.'

'No, really I do not need you. If you wish to oblige me, let me go away
by myself.'

She had evidently made up her mind. She no doubt shrank from the idea
of being seen with a man, even by strangers. She meant to remain silent
about that strange night, she meant to tell some falsehood, and keep
the recollection of her adventure entirely to herself. He made a
furious gesture, which was tantamount to sending her to the devil. Good
riddance; it suited him better not to have to go down. But, all the
same, he felt hurt at heart, and considered that she was ungrateful.

'As you please, then. I sha'n't resort to force,' he said.

At these words, Christine's vague smile became more accentuated. She did
not reply, but took her bonnet and looked round in search of a glass.
Failing to find one, she tied the strings as best she coul