his heart.
He mingled his tears and kisses with hers. Her fair hair fell upon his
face and he covered it with passionate caresses. He poured out the
endearing words of a heart surcharged with love. It was a very clever
make-believe on both sides,--very clever and realistic.

As a medical adviser of an hysterical young woman Jean Marot could
scarcely have been recommended.

And it must be remarked, in the same connection, that Mlle. Fouchette
remained in this embrace a good deal longer than even a clever
imitation seemed to demand. However, since the real thing could not
have lasted forever, there must be a limitation to this rehearsal.
Both had become silent and thoughtful.

It was Mlle. Fouchette who first moved to disengage, and she did so
with a sigh so profound as to appear quite real. This was the second,
and she felt it would be the last time. They would never again hold
each other thus. Her eyes were red and swollen and her dishevelled
hair stuck to her tear-stained face. She was not at all pretty at the
moment, yet Jean would have gone to the wood of St. Cloud sword in
hand to prove her the best-hearted little woman in the world.

"Voila!" she exclaimed, with affected gayety, "how foolish I am,
monsieur! But you are so eloquent of your passion that you carry one
away with you."

"I hope it will have that effect upon Mademoiselle Remy," he said, but
rather doubtfully.

"So I have given a satisfactory----"

"So real, indeed, Fouchette, that I almost forgot it was only you."

Mademoiselle Fouchette was bending over the basin.

"I think"--splash--"that I'll"--splash--"go on the stage," she
murmured.

"You'd be a hit, Fouchette."

"If I had a lover--er--equal to the occasion, perhaps."

"Oh! as to that----"

"Now, Monsieur Jean, we have not yet settled your affair," she
interrupted, throwing herself again upon the divan among the cushions.

"No; not quite," said he.

She tried to think connectedly. But everything seemed such a jumble.
And out of this chaos of thought came the details of the miserable
part she had played.

Her part!

What if he knew that she was merely the wretched tool of the police?
What would he say if he came to know that she had once reported his
movements at the Prefecture? And what would he do if he were aware
that she knew the true relation of Lerouge and Mlle. Remy and had
intentionally misled both him and Madeleine?

Fortunately, Mlle. Fouchette had been spared the k