place? Of course not! We part as friends who understand each other, don't
we? Minna would have sent her love and thanks, if she had known I was to
meet you. Good-night."

She ran downstairs, humming a little tune to herself, as blithe as a
young girl. I heard a momentary whispering with Joseph in the hall. Then
the house-door closed--and there was an end of Madame Fontaine for that
time.

After no very long reflection, I decided that my best course would be to
severely caution Joseph, and to say nothing to the partners of what had
happened--for the present, at least. I should certainly do mischief, by
setting the two old friends at variance again on the subject of the
widow, if I spoke; to say nothing (as another result) of the likelihood
of Joseph's dismissal by Mr. Keller. Actuated by these reasonable
considerations, I am bound frankly to add that I must have felt some
vague misgivings as well. Otherwise, why did I carefully examine Mr.
Keller's room (before I returned to the theater), without any distinct
idea of any conceivable discovery that I might make? Not the vestige of a
suspicious appearance rewarded my search. The room was in its customary
state of order, from the razors and brushes on the toilet-table to the
regular night-drink of barley-water, ready as usual in the jug by the
bedside.

I left the bedchamber at last. Why was I still not at my ease? Why was I
rude enough, when I thought of the widow, to say to myself, "Damn her!"
Why did I find Gluck's magnificent music grow wearisome from want of
melody as it went on? Let the learned in such things realize my position,
and honor me by answering those questions for themselves.