He took away the cup and returned: "If you, but knew, Madame, what
pleasant moments 'La Vie Francaise' afforded me, when I was in the
desert! It is indeed the only paper one cares to read outside of
France; it contains everything."

She smiled with amiable indifference as she replied: "M. Walter had
a great deal of trouble in producing the kind of journal which was
required."

They talked of Paris, the suburbs, the Seine, the delights of
summer, of everything they could think of. Finally M. Norbert de
Varenne advanced, a glass of liqueur in his hand, and Duroy
discreetly withdrew. Mme. de Marelle, who was chatting with her
hostess, called him: "So, sir," she said bluntly, "you are going to
try journalism?" That question led to a renewal of the interrupted
conversation with Mme. Walter. In her turn Mme. de Marelle related
anecdotes, and becoming familiar, laid her hand upon Duroy's arm. He
felt that he would like to devote himself to her, to protect her--
and the slowness with which he replied to her questions indicated
his preoccupation. Suddenly, without any cause, Mme. de Marelle
called: "Laurine!" and the girl came to her. "Sit down here, my
child, you will be cold near the window."

Duroy was seized with an eager desire to embrace the child, as if
part of that embrace would revert to the mother. He asked in a
gallant, yet paternal tone: "Will you permit me to kiss you,
Mademoiselle?" The child raised her eyes with an air of surprise.
Mme. de Marelle said with a smile: "Reply."