and was the owner of the house before which, in the noon of the day
following the events we have described, Paul Violaine might have been
seen standing. The five hundred francs of old Tantaine, or at any rate a
portion of them, had been well spent, and his clothes did credit to his
own taste and the skill of his tailor. Indeed, in his fine feathers he
looked so handsome, that many women turned to gaze after him. He however
took but little notice of this, for he was too full of anxiety, having
grave doubts as to the power of the man whom Tantaine had asserted
could, if he liked, make his fortune. "A registry office!" muttered he
scornfully. "Is he going to propose a berth of a hundred francs a month
to me?" He was much agitated at the thoughts of the impending interview,
and, before entering the house, gazed upon its exterior with great
interest. The house much resembled its neighbors. The entrances to the
Registry Office and the Servants' Home were in the courtyard, at the
arched entrance to which stood a vendor of roast chestnuts.

"There is no use in remaining here," said Paul. Summoning, therefore,
all his resolution, he crossed the courtyard, and, ascending a flight of
stairs, paused before a door upon which "OFFICE" was written. "Come in!"
responded at once to his knock. He pushed open the door, and entered
a room, which closely resembled all other similar offices. There were
seats all round the room, polished by frequent use. At the end was a
sort of compartment shut in by a green baize curtain, jestingly termed
"the Confessional" by the frequenters of the office. Between the windows
was a tin plate, with the words, "All fees to be paid in advance," in
large letters upon it. In one corner a gentleman was seated at a writing
table, who, as he made entries in a ledger, was talking to a woman who
stood beside him.

"M. Mascarin?" asked Paul hesitatingly.