"I will allow you to-day, Monsieur, but not all the time."

Seating himself, Duroy took Laurine upon his knee, and kissed her
lips and her fine wavy hair. Her mother was surprised: "Well, that
is strange! Ordinarily she only allows ladies to caress her. You are
irresistible, Monsieur!"

Duroy colored, but did not reply.

When Mme. Forestier joined them, a cry of astonishment escaped her:
"Well, Laurine has become sociable; what a miracle!"

The young man rose to take his leave, fearing he might spoil his
conquest by some awkward word. He bowed to the ladies, clasped and
gently pressed their hands, and then shook hands with the men. He
observed that Jacques Rival's was dry and warm and responded
cordially to his pressure; Norbert de Varenne's was moist and cold
and slipped through his fingers; Walter's was cold and soft, without
life, expressionless; Forestier's fat and warm.

His friend whispered to him: "To-morrow at three o'clock; do not
forget."

"Never fear!"

When he reached the staircase, he felt like running down, his joy
was so great; he went down two steps at a time, but suddenly on the
second floor, in the large mirror, he saw a gentleman hurrying on,
and he slackened his pace, as much ashamed as if he had been
surprised in a crime.