"But," said M. Duval with some embarrassment, "the least I can do
is to give you in return the price which you paid for it."

"Allow me to offer it to you. The price of a single volume in a
sale of that kind is a mere nothing, and I do not remember how
much I gave for it."

"You gave one hundred francs."

"True," I said, embarrassed in my turn, "how do you know?"

"It is quite simple. I hoped to reach Paris in time for the sale,
and I only managed to get here this morning. I was absolutely
resolved to have something which had belonged to her, and I
hastened to the auctioneer and asked him to allow me to see the
list of the things sold and of the buyers' names. I saw that this
volume had been bought by you, and I decided to ask you to give
it up to me, though the price you had set upon it made me fear
that you might yourself have some souvenir in connection with the
possession of the book."

As he spoke, it was evident that he was afraid I had known
Marguerite as he had known her. I hastened to reassure him.

"I knew Mlle. Gautier only by sight," I said; "her death made on
me the impression that the death of a pretty woman must always
make on a young man who had liked seeing her. I wished to buy
something at her sale, and I bid higher and higher for this book
out of mere obstinacy and to annoy some one else, who was equally