his face had a dumb, lipless appearance.

"How are you, Robine?" exclaimed Gavard.

Robine silently thrust out his hand, without making any reply, though
his eyes softened into a slight smile of welcome. Then he let his chin
drop on to the knob of his cane again, and looked at Florent over his
beer. Florent had made Gavard swear to keep his story a secret for fear
of some dangerous indiscretion; and he was not displeased to observe a
touch of distrust in the discreet demeanour of the gentleman with the
heavy beard. However, he was really mistaken in this, for Robine never
talked more than he did now. He was always the first to arrive, just
as the clock struck eight; and he always sat in the same corner, never
letting go his hold of his cane, and never taking off either his hat or
his overcoat. No one had ever seen him without his hat upon his head. He
remained there listening to the talk of the others till midnight, taking
four hours to empty his mug of beer, and gazing successively at the
different speakers as though he heard them with his eyes. When Florent
afterwards questioned Gavard about Robine, the poultry dealer spoke of
the latter as though he held him in high esteem. Robine, he asserted,
was an extremely clever and able man, and, though he was unable to say
exactly where he had given proof of his hostility to the established
order of things, he declared that he was one of the most dreaded of the
Government's opponents. He lived in the Rue Saint Denis, in rooms
to which no one as a rule could gain admission. The poultry dealer,
however, asserted that he himself had once been in them. The wax floors,
he said, were protected by strips of green linen; and there were covers
over the furniture, and an alabaster timepiece with columns. He had
caught a glimpse of the back of a lady, who was just disappearing
through one doorway as he was entering by another, and had taken her