g.

"Oh! Monsieur le Commissaire, a very worthy man, I swear it!"

"The best man in the world," added his wife, wiping her eyes.

"I am not inquiring about his moral qualities," M. Desbriere said. "What
I want to know is, how did he live and whom did he receive?"

"Few people. Very few," the porter answered. "The poor man liked
solitude. He lived here eight years. He received a few friends, but, I
repeat, a very small number."

M. Rovere had rented the apartment in 1888, he installed himself in his
rooms, with his pictures and books. The porter was much astonished at
the number of pictures and volumes which the new lodger brought. It
took a long time to settle, as M. Rovere was very fastidious and
personally superintended the hanging of his canvases and the placing of
his books. He thought that he must have been an artist, although he said
that he was a retired merchant. He had heard him say one day that he had
been Consul to some foreign country--Spain or South America.

He lived quite simply, although they thought that he must be rich. Was
he a miser? Not at all. Very generous, on the contrary. But, plainly, he
shunned the world. He had chosen their apartment because it was in a
retired spot, far from the Parisian boulevards. Four or five years
before a woman, clothed in black, had come there. A woman who seemed
still young--he had not seen her face, which was covered with a heavy
black veil--she had visited M. Rovere quite often. He always accompanied
her respectfully to the door when she went away. Once or twice he had
gone out with her in a carriage. No, he did not know her name. M.
Rovere's life was regulated with military precision. He usually held
himself upright--of late sickness had bowed him somewhat; he went out
whenever he was able, going as far as the Bois and back. Then, after
breakfasting, he shut himself up in his library and read and wrote. He
passed nearly all of his evenings at home.

"He never made us wait up for him, as he never went to the theatre,"
said Moniche.

The malady from which he suffered, and which puzzled the physicians, had
seized him on his return from a Summer sojourn at Aix-les-Bains for his
health. The neighbors had at once noticed the effect produced by the
cure. When he went away he had been somewhat troubled with rheumatism,
but when he returned he was a confirmed sufferer. Since the beginning of
September he had not been out, receiving no visits, except from his
doctor