by the mantelpiece and dictated to him, a cigarette between her
lips.

Duroy paused upon the threshold and murmured: "I beg your pardon, I
am interrupting you."

His friend growled angrily: "What do you want again? Make haste; we
are busy."

Georges stammered: "It is nothing."

But Forestier persisted: "Come, we are losing time; you did not
force your way into the house for the pleasure of bidding us good
morning."

Duroy, in confusion, replied: "No, it is this: I cannot complete my
article, and you were--so--so kind the last time that I hoped--that
I dared to come--"

Forestier interrupted with: "So you think I will do your work and
that you have only to take the money. Well, that is fine!" His wife
smoked on without interfering.

Duroy hesitated: "Excuse me. I believed--I--thought--" Then, in a
clear voice, he said: "I beg a thousand pardons, Madame, and thank
you very much for the charming article you wrote for me yesterday."
Then he bowed, and said to Charles: "I will be at the office at
three o'clock."

He returned home saying to himself: "Very well, I will write it