moonlight without his seeing me, so intensely was he watching his wife's
front door. For there stood the entomologist. He had evidently been
knocking, and was about to knock again when there came some response from
within, to which he replied, in a suppressed yet eager and agitated voice,
"Mine Psyche! Oh, mine Psyche! She is come to me undt she is bringing me
already more as a hoondredt--vhat?" He had been interrupted from within.
"Vhat you say?"

Fontenette drew his knife.

I stood ready to spring the instant he should stir to advance. I realized
almost unbearably my position, stealing thus at such a moment on the heels
of my neighbor and friend, but this is not a story of feelings, at any
rate, not of mine.

"Vhat?" said the entomologist. "Go avay? Mien Gott! No, I vill not ko
avay. Mien gloryform! Gif me first mine gloryform! Dot Psyche hass come
out fon ter grysalis! she hass drawn me dot room full mit oder Psyches,
undt you haf mine pottle of gloryform in your pocket yet! Yes, ko kit ut;
I vait; ach!" Presently he seemed to hear from inside a second approach.
Then the door opened an inch or so, and with another "Ach!" and never a
word of thanks, he, snatched the vial and, turning to make off with it,
came nose to nose with M. Fontenette, who stood in the moonlight gateway
holding a blazing match to his cigarette.

"Well, sir, good-evening again," said the Creole. I noticed the perfection
of his dress; evidently he had not as yet loosed as much as a shoestring.
And then I observed also that the visitor so close before him was without
his shoes.