"Well," observed the other, "if I were in monsieur's place I
should be angry too. Would you let your wife have her dresses
fitted on by a man? I says that it's indecent. I'm only a
servant, but----"

"Nonsense, it's the fashion. Besides, monsieur does not care
about that. A man who----"

He stopped short; in fact, the others had motioned him to be
silent. The baron was surrounded by exceptional servants, and the
presence of a stranger acted as a restraint upon them. For this
reason, one of them, after asking Pascal for his card, opened a
door and ushered him into a small room, saying: "I will go and
inform the baron. Please wait here."

"Here," as he called it, was a sort of smoking-room hung with
cashmere of fantastic design and gorgeous hues, and encircled by a
low, cushioned divan, covered with the same material. A profusion
of rare and costly objects was to be seen on all sides, armor,
statuary, pictures, and richly ornamented weapons. But Pascal,
already amazed by the conversation of the servants, did not think
of examining these objects of virtu. Through a partially open
doorway, directly opposite the one he had entered by, came the
sound of loud voices in excited conversation. Baron Trigault, the
baroness, and the famous Van Klopen were evidently in the
adjoining room. It was a woman, the baroness, who was speaking,
and the quivering of her clear and somewhat shrill voice betrayed
a violent irritation, which was only restrained with the greatest
difficulty. "It is hard for the wife of one of the richest men in
Paris to see a bill for absolute necessities disputed in this