And the longer he thought it over, the more clearly did he feel
that Charles had been unjust to him. He had never been angry with
his friend, nor was he precisely angry even now. But as he
repeated to himself all the insults Charles had heaped upon him,
his good-natured heart hardened; and the next morning he took his
place in silence, after a cold "Good morning."

Although he arrived a whole hour earlier than usual, he could see
that Charles had been working long and industriously. There they
sat, each on his side of the desk; they spoke only the most
indispensable words; now and then a paper passed from hand to
hand, but they never looked each other in the face.

In this way they both worked--each more busily than the other--
until twelve o'clock, their usual luncheon-time.

This hour of dejeuner was the favorite time of both. Their custom
was to have it served in their office, and when the old
housekeeper announced that lunch was ready, they would both rise
at once, even if they were in the midst of a sentence or of an
account.

They used to eat standing by the fireplace, or walking up and down
in the warm, comfortable office. Alphonse had always some piquant
stories to tell, and Charles laughed at them. These were his
pleasantest hours.

But that day, when madame said her friendly "Messieurs, on a
servi" they both remained sitting. She opened her eyes wide, and