He uncovered, and bowing over her hand, kissed it; and the door being
open he would have turned away. But she lingered as if unwilling to
enter.

"There is--do you hear it--a stir in _that_ quarter?" she said, pointing
across the Rue St. Honore. "What lies there?"

"Northward? The markets," he answered. "'Tis nothing. They say, you
know, that Paris never sleeps. Good night, sweet, and a fair awakening!"

She shivered as she had shivered under Tavannes' eye. And still she
lingered, keeping him.

"Are you going to your lodging at once?" she asked--for the sake, it
seemed, of saying something.

"I?" he answered a little hurriedly. "No, I was thinking of paying
Rochefoucauld the compliment of seeing him home. He has taken a new
lodging to be near the Admiral; a horrid bare place in the Rue Bethizy,
without furniture, but he would go into it to-day. And he has a sort of
claim on my family, you know."

"Yes," she said simply. "Of course. Then I must not detain you. God
keep you safe," she continued, with a faint quiver in her tone; and her
lip trembled. "Good night, and fair dreams, Monsieur."

He echoed the words gallantly. "Of you, sweet!" he cried; and turning
away with a gesture of farewell, he set off on his return.