"I will spend it with you, if you wish."

"Very good! You will find a cup of tea waiting for you at nine."

"I shall be on hand for it."

I thanked M. Leduc. We shook hands and parted.

I went down the Rue des Lisses (meaning Lists, from a combat
which took place in the square to which it leads), and skirting
the Montburon Garden, I reached the Place du Bastion. This is a
semicircle now used as the town marketplace. In the midst stands
the statue of Bichat by David d'Angers. Bichat, in a frockcoat--why
that exaggeration of realism?--stands with his hand upon the
heart of a child about nine or ten years old, perfectly nude--why
that excess of ideality? Extended at Bichat's feet lies a dead
body. It is Bichat's book "Of Life and of Death" translated into
bronze. I was studying this statue, which epitomizes the defects
and merits of David d'Angers, when I felt some one touch my
shoulder. I turned around; it was M. Milliet. He held a paper
in his hand.

"Well?" I asked.

"Well, victory!"

"What is that you have there?"

"The minutes of the trial and execution."