"What is it?" asked Valentine, looking round.

"Ah! you're just too late. He's gone!"

"He--who?"

"Marr."

"Oh," Valentine said, showing considerable interest; "I wish I had seen
him. Where was he sitting?"

"I haven't an idea. Didn't know he was in the theatre."

Doctor Levillier made an exception to his rule of being in bed by twelve
o'clock that night, and accepted Valentine's invitation to sup in
Victoria Street. He had always been greatly drawn to Valentine, attracted
by the latter's exceptional clarity of character, and he was scarcely
less interested in Julian. Nor did the considerable difference between
his age and the ages of the two youths in any way interfere with their
pleasant intercourse. For Levillier had a heart that was ageless. The
corroding years did not act as acid upon it. All his sympathies were as
keen, all his power of enjoyment was as great, as when he had been a
delightfully gay and delightfully pleasant boy at school. Youth always
loved him, and age always respected him. He possessed the great secret
of a beautiful life. He was absolutely genuine, and he meant nothing
but good to all with whom he was brought into contact.

The three friends spoke but little as they went back to the flat, but
when they had sat down to supper, and Dr. Levillier had expressed his
complete satisfaction with the champagne that Valentine's butler had