nation--"you see, our hours are different."

Sypher shook his head uncomprehendingly. The proprietor of the
establishment, in dingy shirt-sleeves, set down the beer before him.
Hegisippe, who had mixed his absinthe and was waiting politely until their
new friend should be served, raised his glass.

"Just before you came, Monsieur," said he, "I was about to drink to the
health--"

"Of _L'Armee-Francaise_," interrupted Septimus, reaching out his glass.

"But no," laughed Hegisippe. "It was to Monsieur, Madame, et Bebe."

"Bebe?" cried Sypher, and Septimus felt his clear, swift glance read his
soul.

They clinked glasses. Hegisippe, defying the laws governing the absorption
of alcohols, tossed off his absinthe in swashbuckler fashion, and rose.

"Now I leave you. You have many things to talk about. My respectful
compliments to Madame. Messieurs, au revoir."

He shook hands, saluted and swaggered off, his chechia at the very back of
his head, leaving half his shaven crown uncovered in front.

"A fine fellow, your friend, an intelligent fellow--" said Sypher, watching
him.

"He's going to be a waiter," said Septimus.

"Now that he has had his heels rubbed with the cure he may be more
ambitious. A valuable fellow, for having given me a stupendous idea--but a
bit indiscreet, eh? Never mind," he added, seeing the piteous look on
Septimus's face. "I'll have discretion for the two of us. I'll not breathe
a word of it to anybody."

"Thank you," said Septimus.

There was an awkward silence. Septimus traced a diagram on the table with
the spilled tea. Sypher lighted a cigar, which he smoked in the corner of
his mouth, American fashion.

"Well, I'm damned!" he muttered below his breath.

He looked hard at Septimus, intent on his tea drawing. Then he shifted his
cigar impatiently to the other side of his mouth. "No, I'm damned if I am.
I can't be."

"You can't be what?" asked Septimus, catching his last words.

"Damned."

"Why should you be?"

"Look here," said Sypher, "I've rushed in rather unceremoniously into your
private affairs. I'm sorry. But I couldn't help taking an interest in the
two of you, both for your own sake and that of Zora Middlemist."

"I suppose you would do anything for her."

"Yes."

"So would I," said Septimus, in a low voice. "There are some women one
lives for and others one dies for."

"She is one of the women for whom one would live."

Septimus shook his head. "No, she's the ot