"Yes, sir; as well as she always is," was the reply, and he was
ushered into the salon. He walked to the mantelpiece to see what
kind of an appearance he presented: he was readjusting his cravat
when he saw in the mirror the young woman standing on the threshold
looking at him. He pretended not to have seen her, and for several
moments they gazed at one another in the mirror. Then he turned. She
had not moved; she seemed to be waiting. He rushed toward her
crying: "How I love you!" He clasped her to his breast. He thought:
"It is easier than I thought it would be. All is well." He looked at
her with a smile, without uttering a word, trying to put into his
glance a wealth of love. She too smiled and murmured: "We are alone.
I sent Laurine to lunch with a friend."

He sighed, and kissing her wrists said: "Thanks; I adore you." She
took his arm as if he had been her husband, and led him to a couch,
upon which they seated themselves side by side. Duroy stammered,
incoherently: "You do not care for me."

She laid her hand upon his lips. "Be silent!"

"How I love you!" said he.

She repeated: "Be silent!"

They could hear the servant laying the table in the dining-room. He
rose: "I cannot sit so near you. I shall lose my head."

The door opened: "Madame is served!"

He offered her his arm gravely. They lunched without knowing what