sat in front of the secretaire, arranging some papers. His slumber
had been so heavy that he had not heard her rise. However, he now took
courage, and spoke to her from the depths of the alcove: "Why didn't you
wake me? What are you doing there?"

"I'm sorting the papers in these drawers," she replied in her usual tone
of voice.

Quenu felt relieved. But Lisa added: "One never knows what may happen.
If the police were to come--"

"What! the police?"

"Yes, indeed, the police; for you're mixing yourself up with politics
now."

At this Quenu sat up in bed, quite dazed and confounded by such a
violent and unexpected attack.

"I mix myself up with politics! I mix myself up with politics!" he
repeated. "It's no concern of the police. I've nothing to do with any
compromising matters."

"No," replied Lisa, shrugging her shoulders; "you merely talk about
shooting everybody."

"I! I!"

"Yes. And you bawl it out in a public-house! Mademoiselle Saget heard
you. All the neighbourhood knows by this time that you are a Red