n volunteered his
disinterested support if at any time it should become necessary to
enlarge the plant. And it was this good man's happiness that his son, a
frivolous and useless dancer, was going to steal! . . .

At first Laurier spoke of a duel. His wrath was that of a work horse who
breaks the tight reins of his laboring outfit, tosses his mane, neighs
wildly and bites. The father was greatly distressed at the possibility
of such an outcome. . . . One scandal more! Julio had dedicated the
greater part of his existence to the handling of arms.

"He will kill the poor man!" he said to the senator. "I am sure that he
will kill him. It is the logic of life; the good-for-nothing always kill
those who amount to anything."

But there was no killing. The Father of the Republic knew how to handle
the clashing parties, with the same skill that he always employed in
the corridors of the Senate during a ministerial crisis. The scandal was
hushed up. Marguerite went to live with her mother and took the first
steps for a divorce.

Some evenings, when the studio clock was striking seven, she would yawn
and say sadly: "I must go. . . . I have to go, although this is my true
home. . . . Ah, what a pity that we are not married!"

And he, feeling a whole garden of bourgeois virtues, hitherto ignored,
bursting into bloom, repeated in a tone of conviction:

"That's so; why are we not married!"

Their wishes could be realized. The husband was facilitating the step
by his unexpected intervention. So young Desnoyers set forth for South
America in order to raise the money and marry Marguerite.

CHAPTER IV

THE COUSIN FROM BERLIN

The studio of Julio Desnoyers was on the top floor, both the stairway
and the elevator stopping before his door. The two tiny apartments
at the back were lighted by an interior court, their only means of
communication being the service stairway which went on up to the
garrets.

While his comrade was away, Argensola had made the acquaintance of those
in the neighboring lodgings. The largest of the apartments was empty
during the day, its occupants not returning till after they had taken
their evening meal in a restaurant. As both husband and wife were
employed outside, they could not remain at home except on holidays.
The man, vigorous and of a martial aspect, was superintendent in a big
department store. . . . He had been a soldier in Africa, wore a military
decoration, and had the rank of sub-li