In a moment the gigantic car stopped in front of the Hôtel du Danube. Two
attendants rushed out in uniforms of delicate blue. They did not touch
their hats--they raised them. Audrey descended and penetrated into the
portico, where a tall dandy saluted and inquired her will. She wanted
rooms; she wanted a flat? Certainly. They had nothing but flats. A large
flat on the ground-floor was at her disposal absolutely. Two bedrooms,
sitting-room, bathroom. It had its own private entrance in the courtyard.
She inspected it. The suite was furnished in the Empire style. Herself and
maid? No. A friend! Well, the maids could sleep upstairs. It could arrange
itself. She had no maid? Her friend had no maid? Ah! So much the better.
Sixty francs a day.

"Where is the dining-room?" demanded Audrey.

"Madame," said the dandy, shocked. "We have no dining-room. All meals are
specially cooked to order and served in the private rooms. We have the
reputation...." He opened his arms and bowed.

Good! Good! She would return with her friend in one hour or so.

"106 Rue Delambre," she bade the chauffeur, after being followed to the
pavement by the dandy and a suite.

"Rue de Londres?" said the chauffeur.

"No. Rue Delambre."

It had to be looked out on the map, but the chauffeur, trained to the hour,
did not blench. However, when he found the Rue Delambre, the success with