"And he had so completely lost his head," added Colline, "that he wanted to leave the receipt without the money." "Give these to his wife," said Marcel, handing over the receipts. "We are honest folk, and do not wish to take advantage of his condition." "Good heavens! What will madame say?" exclaimed the maid, leading, or rather dragging off her master, who had a very imperfect idea of the use of his legs. "So much for him!" ejaculated Marcel. "He has smelt money," said Rodolphe. "He will come again tomorrow." "When he does, I will threaten to tell his wife about Phemie and he will give us time enough." When the landlord had been got outside, the four friends went on smoking and drinking. Marcel alone retained a glimmer of lucidity in his intoxication. From time to time, at the slightest sound on the staircase, he ran and opened the door. But those who were coming up always halted at one of the lower landings, and then the artist would slowly return to his place by the fireside. Midnight struck, and Musette had not come. "After all," thought Marcel, "perhaps she was not in when my letter arrived. She will find it when she gets home tonight, and she will come tomorrow. We shall still have a fire. It is impossible for her not to come. Tomorrow." And he fell asleep by the fire. At the very moment that Marcel fell asleep dreaming of her, Mademoiselle Musette was leaving the residence of her friend Madame Sidonie, where she had been staying up till then. Musette was not alone, a young man accompanied her. A carriage was waiting at the door. They got into it and went off at full speed. The game at lansquenet was still going on in Madame Sidonie's room. "Where is Musette?" said someone all at once. "Where is young Seraphin?" said another. Madame Sidonie began to laugh. "They had just gone off together," said she. "It is a funny story. What a strange being Musette is. Just fancy...." And she informed the company how Musette, after almost quarreling with Vicomte Maurice and starting off to find Marcel, had stepped in there by chance and met with young Seraphin. "I suspected something was up," she continued. "I had an eye on them all the evening. He is very sharp, that youngster. In short, they have gone off on the quiet, and it would take a sharp one to catch them up. All the same, it is very funny when one thinks how fond Musette is of her Marcel." "If she is so fond of him, what is the use of Seraphin, almost a lad, and who had never had a mistress?" said a young fellow. "She wants to teach him to read, perhaps," said the journalist, who was very stupid when he had been losing. "All the same," said Sidonie, "what does she want with Seraphin when she is in love with Marcel? That is what gets over me." * * * * *