"I am," said I.

"Permit me to show you the way," he said--though his escort seemed to me
very unnecessary.

He mounted before me. We reached the first floor. Opposite to us, not
three yards away, was the door of the sitting-room which I knew to be
occupied by the Delhasses.

"Go on," said I.

"In a moment, sir," he said.

Then he held up his hand in the attitude of a man who listens.

"One should not listen," he whispered, apologetically; "but it is so
strange. I thought that if you knew the lady--Hark!"

I knew that we ought not to listen. But the mystery of the fellow's manner
and the concern of his air constrained me, and I too paused, listening.

From behind the door there came to our strained attentive ears the sound
of a woman sobbing. I sought the waiter's eyes; they were already bent on
me. Again the sad sounds came--low, swift, and convulsive. It went to my
heart to hear them. I did not know what to do. To go on upstairs to my own
room and mind my own business seemed the simple thing--simple, easy, and
proper. But my feet were glued to the boards. I could not go, with that
sound beating on my ears: I should hear it all the day. I glanced again at
the waiter. He was a kind-looking fellow, and I saw the tears standing in