Paris who can--

"But hold, Monsieur Z., you must be joking. Explain yourself; come to
the point. Do you mean to say that Madame de K.--oh! dear me! but that
is most 'inconvenant'!"

Nothing, nothing! I am foolish. Let us suppose that I had not spoken,
ladies; let us speak of something else. How could the idea have got into
my head of saying anything about "all the rest"? Let us talk of
something else.

It was a real spring morning, the rain fell in torrents and the north
wind blew furiously, when the damsel, more dead than alive----

The fact is, I feel I can not get out of it. It will be better to tell
all. Only swear to me to be discreet. On your word of honor? Well,
then, here goes.

I am, I repeat, the only man in Paris who can speak from knowledge of
"all the rest" in regard to Madame de K.

Some years ago--but do not let us anticipate--I say, some years ago I had
an intimate friend at whose house we met many evenings. In summer the
windows were left open, and we used to sit in armchairs and chat of
affairs by the light of our cigars. Now, one evening, when we were
talking of fishing--all these details are still fresh in my memory--we
heard the sound of a powerful harpsichord, and soon followed the harsh
notes of a voice more vigorous than harmonious, I must admit.

"Aha! she has altered her hours," said Paul, regarding one of the windows