A very simple incident shattered all this edifice of voluntary and involuntary illusions. At Golfe Juan Station, as Hautefeuille was leaning a little out of the window, a voice hailed him. Olivier recognized the indestructible accent of Corancez. The door opened and gave admittance to a lady, no other than the ex-Marchesa Bonnacorsi, escorted by the Southerner. When she saw that Pierre was not alone, Andryana could not help blushing to the roots of her beautiful blond hair, while Corancez, equal to every circumstance, always triumphant, beaming, smiling, performed the necessary introduction. The conjugal seducer had thought of everything, and before leaving for Genoa he had established a meeting-place in one of the villas at Golfe Juan in which to enjoy the prolongation of their secret honeymoon. Andryana had managed to cheat her brother's watchfulness and had gone to meet her husband upon the first day of his arrival. Her happiness began to give her the courage upon which the wily Southerner had counted to bring his enterprise to a successful conclusion, but he had not yet trained her to lie with grace. Hardly was she seated in the compartment when she said to Olivier and his wife, without waiting for any question:-- "I missed the last train, and as Monsieur de Corancez did the same, we decided to walk to Golfe Juan to take the next train instead of waiting wearily in the station at Cannes." All the time she was speaking Olivier was looking at her little patent leather shoes and the hem of her dress, which gave such a palpable lie to her statement. There was not a speck of dust upon them and her alleged walking companion's gaiters had very evidently not taken more than fifty steps. The married plotters surprised Olivier's look. It completed the Italian's confusion and almost provoked a wild fit of laughter in Corancez, who said merrily:-- "Are you going to Monte Carlo? I will perhaps meet you there. Where shall you dine?" "I don't know," replied Olivier, with a forbidding tone that was almost rude. He did not speak another word while the train fled along the coast, flying through tunnel after tunnel. The Southerner, without taking any notice of his old comrade's very apparent bad temper, entered into a conversation with Madame du Prat, which he managed to make almost a friendly one.