Madame bridled at the soothing little falsehood.

'Alas! nothing so interesting. She was of the provinces.'

'Provincial! Impossible!'

At once the ice was broken; at once they were on the footing of friends,
and madame's soul poured forth its secret vanities.

'Monsieur was too kind. No, she was provincial--though, of a truth,
Paris was so well known to her that she might almost claim to be
_Parisienne_.'

The boy's interest was undiminished. 'Might he venture to ask if it was
pleasure alone that had brought madame to the capital--or had
business--?' He left the sentence discreetly unfinished.

Madame pushed her empty plate away and took a toothpick from the table.

'How observant was monsieur!' She eyed the bright young face with
growing approval. 'Yes, business, alas, was the pivot of her visit! This
terrible business--exacting so much, giving so little in return!' She
heaved a weighty sigh, then her fat face melted into smiles. 'But after
all, what would you?' She shrugged her ample shoulders, and the
toothpick came into full play.

'What would you, indeed?' The boy began to feel a little disconcerted
under her glance of slow approval, and a swift sense of relief passed
through him as the door opened and the waiter reappeared, carrying the