"But you yourself have experienced such a loss, monsieur?" faltered the
widow nervously. Had trouble unhinged his brain?

"No," said the young man; "to speak by the clock, my own loss has not
yet occurred."

A brief silence fell, during which she cast uneasy glances towards the
door.

He added, as if anxious that she should do him justice: "But I would
not have you consider my lamentations premature."

"How true it is," breathed the lady, "that in this world no human soul
can wholly comprehend another!"

"Mine is a very painful history," he warned her, taking the hint; "yet
if it will serve to divert your mind from your own misfortune, I shall
be honoured to confide it to you. Stay, the tenth invitation, which an
accident prevented my dispatching, would explain the circumstances
tersely: but I much fear that the room is too dark for you to decipher
all the subtleties. Have I your permission to turn up the gas?"

"Do so, by all means, monsieur," said the lady graciously. And the
light displayed to her, first, as personable a young man as she could
have desired to see; second, an imposing card, which was inscribed as
follows:

MONSIEUR ACHILLE FLAMANT, ARTIST,