did not waste our time."

"So I certainly perceive, Madame," I replied, bitterly; "but I have
lost mine."

I then saw that she was a naturally good-hearted woman. All her
merriment vanished.

"Poor Monsieur Bonnard! poor Monsieur Bonnard!" she murmured.

And, taking my hand in hers, she added:

"Tell me about your troubles."

I told her about them. My story was long; but she was evidently
touched by it, for she asked me quite a number of circumstantial
questions, which I took for proof of her friendly interest. She
wanted to know the exact title of the manuscript, its shape, its
appearance, and its age; she asked me for the address of Signor Rafael
Polizzi.

And I gave it to her; thus doing (O destiny!) precisely what the
abominable Polizzi had told me to do.

It is sometimes difficult to check oneself. I recommenced my plaints
and my imprecations. But this time Madame Trepof only burst out
laughing.

"Why do you laugh?" I asked her.