I continued to muse upon her pretty fancies, while Monsieur Paul
related to me, as he puffed a very strong cigar, the history of some
suit he had brought against the commune about a water-right. Madame
de Gabry, feeling the chill night air, began to shiver under the
shawl her husband had wrapped about her, and left us to go to her
room. I then decided, instead of going to my own, to return to the
library and continue my examination of the manuscripts. In spite
of the protests of Monsieur Paul, I entered what I may call, in
old-fashioned phrase, "the book-room," and started to work by the
light of a lamp.

After having read fifteen pages, evidently written by some ignorant
and careless scribe, for I could scarcely discern their meaning,
I plunged my hand into the pocket of my coat to get my snuff-box;
but this movement, usually so natural and almost instinctive, this
time cost me some effort and even fatigue. Nevertheless, I got out
the silver box, and took from it a pinch of the odorous powder, which,
somehow or other, I managed to spill all over my shirt-bosom under
my baffled nose. I am sure my nose must have expressed its
disappointment, for it is a very expressive nose. More than once it
has betrayed my secret thoughts, and especially upon a certain
occasion at the public library of Coutances, where I discovered,
right in front of my colleague Brioux, the "Cartulary of Notre-
Dame-des-Anges."

What a delight! My little eyes remained as dull and expressionless
as ever behind my spectacles. But at the mere sight of my thick pug-
nose, which quivered with joy and pride, Brioux knew that I had
found something. He noted the volume I was looking at, observed the