Raoul's warm bed. Such a cruelty it would be to awake the baby,
M'sieur."

"I think I'd like to see what it looks like while asleep, Madame,"
said Bingle, with the air of a shrewd bargainer. "You see, I've become
quite an expert on babies. I don't believe there is a better judge of
--I beg your pardon. I forgot to inquire if my English is quite
intelligible. Do you follow me?"

"Your English is perfect, M'sieur," she assured him, brightly. "May I
say that it surprises me. I have been in your America for five years
and I have not before this hour heard an American speak the English
language so perfectly--"

"Ahem!" coughed Rouquin, and Madame Rousseau completed her estimate of
Mr. Bingle's English by spreading her hands in a gesture which
signified utter inability to express herself in words. "Shall we peep
into my bedroom?" went on the foreign exchange manager.

"Said the spider to the fly," came quite distinctly from Monsieur
Rousseau.

"Remember," cautioned Rouquin, his hand on the door-knob, "you are to
guess what it is, Mr. Bingle."

"I suppose I'm to have two guesses," said Mr. Single, with a chuckle.

"Certainly," said Rouquin. "Provided your first guess is wrong."

Stealthily the group entered the bedroom of Monsieur Rouquin. The