airs together without speaking a word till
they were in the street; but outside on the sidewalk they looked at each
other with a dreary laugh.

"We are a couple of old fools," said Crevel.

"I have got rid of them," said Madame Marneffe to Lisbeth, as she sat
down once more. "I never loved and I never shall love any man but my
Jaguar," she added, smiling at Henri Montes. "Lisbeth, my dear, you
don't know. Henri has forgiven me the infamy to which I was reduced by
poverty."

"It was my own fault," said the Brazilian. "I ought to have sent you a
hundred thousand francs."

"Poor boy!" said Valerie; "I might have worked for my living, but my
fingers were not made for that--ask Lisbeth."

The Brazilian went away the happiest man in Paris.

At noon Valerie and Lisbeth were chatting in the splendid bedroom where
this dangerous woman was giving to her dress those finishing touches
which a lady alone can give. The doors were bolted, the curtains drawn
over them, and Valerie related in every detail all the events of the
evening, the night, the morning.

"What do you think of it all, my darling?" she said to Lisbeth in
conclusion. "Which shall I be when the time comes--Madame Crevel, or
Madame Montes?"

"Crevel will not last more than ten years, such a profligate as he is,"
replied Lisbeth. "Montes is young. Crevel will leave you about thirty
thousand francs a year. Let Montes wait; he will be happy enough as
Benjamin. And so, by the time you are three-and-thirty, if you take care
of your looks, you may marry your Brazilian and make a fine show with
sixty thousand francs a year of your own--especially under the wing of a
Marechale."

"Yes, but Montes is a Brazilian; he will never make his mark," observed
Valerie.

"We live in the day of railways," said Lisbeth, "when foreigners rise to
high positions in France."

"We shall see," replied Valerie, "when Marneffe is dead. He has not much
longer to suffer."

"These attacks that return so often are a sort of physical remorse,"
said Lisbeth. "Well, I am off to see Hortense."

"Yes--go, my angel!" replied Valerie. "And bring me my artist.--Three
years, and I have not gained an inch of ground! It is a disgrace to both
of us!--Wenceslas and Henri--these are my two passions--one for love,
the other for fancy."

"You are lovely this morning," said Lisbeth, putting her arm round
Valerie's waist and kissing her forehead. "I enjoy all your pleasures,
your good fortune, your