overcome her feeling of dislike. And when the mistress, so formidable
toward everybody except her daughter, cried with rage:

"That Micheline! I have just seen her again in the garden, hanging on
the arm of that great lanky fellow, her eyes fixed on his like a lark
fascinated by a looking-glass. What on earth has happened to her that
she should be in such a state?"

Marechal interrupted her gently.

"All fair people are like that," he affirmed with ironical gayety. "You
cannot understand it, Madame; you are dark."

Then Madame Desvarennes became angry.

"Be quiet," she said, "you are stupid! She ought to have a shower-bath!
She is mad!"

As for Cayrol he lived in ecstasy, like an Italian kneeling before a
madonna. He had never been so happy; he was overwhelmed with joy. Until
then, he had only thought of business matters. To be rich was the aim of
his life; and now he was going to work for happiness. It was all
pleasure for him. He was not blase; he amused himself like a child,
adorning the rooms which were to be occupied by Jeanne. To his mind
nothing was too expensive for the temple of his goddess, as he said, with
a loud laugh which lighted up his whole face. And when he spoke of his
love's future nest, he exclaimed, with a voluptuous shiver:

"It is charming; a veritable little paradise!" Then the financier shone
through all, and he added: