e no shops, and at that hour
it is quite deserted. In half an hour's time Marguerite arrived. She
looked around her as she got down from her coupe, as if she were
looking for some one. The carriage drove off; the stables were not at
the house. Just as Marguerite was going to ring, I went up to her and
said, "Good-evening."

"Ah, it is you," she said, in a tone that by no means reassured me as to
her pleasure in seeing me.

"Did you not promise me that I might come and see you to-day?"

"Quite right. I had forgotten."

This word upset all the reflections I had had during the day.
Nevertheless, I was beginning to get used to her ways, and I did not
leave her, as I should certainly have done once. We entered. Nanine had
already opened the door.

"Has Prudence come?" said Marguerite.

"No, madame."

"Say that she is to be admitted as soon as she comes. But first put out
the lamp in the drawing-room, and if any one comes, say that I have not
come back and shall not be coming back."

She was like a woman who is preoccupied with something, and perhaps
annoyed by an unwelcome guest. I did not know what to do or say.
Marguerite went toward her bedroom; I remained where I was.

"Come," she said.

She took off her hat and her velvet cloak and threw them on the bed,
then let herself drop into a great armchair beside the fire, which she
kept till the very beginning of summer, and said to me as she fingered
her watch-chain:

"Well, what news have you got for me?"

"None, except that I ought not to have come to-night."

"Why?"

"Because you seem vexed, and no doubt I am boring you."

"You are not boring me; only I am not well; I have been suffering all
day. I could not sleep, and I have a frightful headache."

"Shall I go away and let you go to bed?"

"Oh, you can stay. If I want to go to bed I don't mind your being here."

At that moment there was a ring.

"Who is coming now?" she said, with an impatient movement.

A few minutes after there was another ring.

"Isn't there any one to go to the door? I shall have to go." She got up
and said to me, "Wait here."

She went through the rooms, and I heard her open the outer door. I
listened.

The person whom she had admitted did not come farther than the
dining-room. At the first word I recognised the voice of the young Comte
de N.

"How are you this evening?" he said.

"Not well," replied Marguerite drily.

"Am I disturbing you?"

"Perhaps.

"How you