"She is an actress begging for an engagement, monsieur."

"I regret that I am exceedingly busy. Tell her to write."

"The lady has already written a thousand times," he mentioned, going.
"'Jeanne Laurent' has been one of the most constant contributors to our
waste-paper basket."

"Then tell her that I regret I can do nothing for her. Mon Dieu! is it
imagined that I have no other occupation than to interview nonentities?
By the way, how is it you have bothered me about her, why this unusual
embassy? I suppose she is pretty, hein?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"And young?"

"Yes, monsieur."

I wavered. Let us say my sympathy was stirred. But perhaps the lilac
was responsible--lilac and a pretty girl seem to me a natural
combination, like coffee and a cigarette. "Send her in!" I said.

I sat at the table and picked up a pen.

"Monsieur de Varenne--" She paused nervously on the threshold.

Maximin was a fool, she was not "pretty"; she was either plain, or
beautiful. To my mind, she had beauty, and if she hadn't been an