trifle vague," said Caesar.

"Bah!"

The air had grown milder; on the surface of the sea patterns of silver
foam, formed by the beating of the waves, widened themselves out; the
sun's reflection on the restless waters made shining spots and rays,
flaming swords that dazzled the eye.

The train seemed to puff joyfully at submerging itself in this bland and
voluptuous atmosphere; the palm-trees of Cannes came surging up like a
promise of felicity, and the Cote d'Azur began to show its luminous and
splendid beauty.

Caesar, tired of so much light, took a book from his pocket: _The
Speculator's Manual_ of Proudhon, and set to reading it attentively and
to marking the passages that struck him as interesting.



THE ENGLISHMAN AND HIS WIFE

Laura, when she was not watching the landscape, was looking at those who
came and went in the corridor.

"The Englishman is lying in wait," Laura observed.

"What Englishman?" asked Caesar.

"The son of the lord."