alone fills my thoughts at this moment."

Sigismond put out his hand.

"You are a noble man, Risler. Forgive me for having suspected you."

Risler pretended not to hear him.

"A hundred thousand francs to pay, you say? How much is there left in the
strong-box?"

He sat bravely down behind the gratin, looking over the books of account,
the certificates of stock in the funds, opening the jewel-cases,
estimating with Planus, whose father had been a jeweller, the value of
all those diamonds, which he had once so admired on his wife, having no
suspicion of their real value.

Meanwhile Claire, trembling from head to foot, looked out through the
window at the little garden, white with snow, where Sidonie's footsteps
were already effaced by the fast-falling flakes, as if to bear witness
that that precipitate departure was without hope of return.

Up-stairs they were still dancing. The mistress of the house was supposed
to be busy with the preparations for supper, while she was flying,
bare-headed, forcing back sobs and shrieks of rage.

Where was she going? She had started off like a mad woman, running across
the garden and the courtyard of the factory, and under the dark arches,
where the cruel, freezing wind blew in eddying circles. Pere Achille did
not recognize her; he had seen so many shadows wrapped in white pass his
lodge that night.

The young woman's first thought was to join the tenor Cazaboni, whom at
the last she had not dared to invite to her ball; but he lived at
Montmartre, and that was very far away for her to go, in that garb; and
then, would he be at home? Her parents would take her in, doubtless; but
she could already hear Madame Chebe's lamentations and the little man's
sermon under three heads. Thereupon she thought of Delobelle, her old
Delobelle. In the downfall of all her splendors she remembered the man
who had first initiated her into fashionable life, who had given her
lessons in dancing and deportment when she was a little girl, laughed at
her pretty ways, and taught her to look upon herself as beautiful before
any one had ever told her that she was so. Something told her that that
fallen star would take her part against all others. She entered one of
the carriages standing at the gate and ordered the driver to take her to
the actor's lodgings on the Boulevard Beaumarchais.

For some time past Mamma Delobelle had been making straw hats for
export-a dismal trade if ever there was one, which