"M. Gurn is a bachelor," Mme. Doulenques replied. "I can't fancy him married, with his roaming kind of life." "Just a little friend of his, eh?" said the man in the soft hat, with a wink and a meaning smile. "Oh, no," said the concierge, shaking her head. "That photograph is not a bit like her." "So you know her, then?" "I do and I don't. That's to say, when M. Gurn is in Paris, he often has visits from a lady in the afternoon: a very fashionable lady, I can tell you, not the sort that one often sees in this quarter. Why, the woman who comes is a society lady, I am sure: she always has her veil down and passes by my lodge ever so fast, and never has any conversation with me; free with her money, too: it's very seldom she does not give me something when she comes." The stranger seemed to find the concierge's communications very interesting, but they did not interrupt his mental inventory of the room. "In other words, your tenant does not keep too sharp an eye on his money?" he suggested. "No, indeed: the rent is always paid in advance, and sometimes M. Gurn even pays two terms in advance because he says he never can tell if his business won't be keeping him away when the rent falls due." Just then a deep voice called up the staircase: "Concierge: M. Gurn: have you any one of that name in the house?" "Come up to the fifth floor," the concierge called back to the man. "I am in his rooms now," and she went back into the flat. "Here's somebody else for M. Gurn," she exclaimed. "Does he have many visitors?" the stranger enquired. "Hardly any, sir: that's why I'm so surprised." Two men appeared; their blue blouses and metal-peaked caps proclaimed them to be porters. The concierge turned to the man in the soft hat. "I suppose these are your men, come to fetch the trunks?" The stranger made a slight grimace, seemed to hesitate and finally made up his mind to remain silent. Rather surprised to see that the three men did not seem to be acquainted with each other, the concierge was about to ask what it meant, when one of the porters addressed her curtly: "We've come from the South Steamship Company for four boxes from M. Gurn's place. Are those the ones?" and taking no notice of the visitor in the room, the man pointed to two large trunks and two small boxes which were placed in a corner of the room. "But aren't you three all together?" enquired Mme. Doulenques, visibly uneasy. The stranger still remained silent, but the first porter replied at once. "No; we have nothing to do with the gentleman. Get on to it, mate! We've no time to waste!" Anticipating their action, the concierge got instinctively between the porters and the luggage: so too did the man in the soft hat. "Pardon," said he politely but peremptorily. "Please take nothing away." One of the porters drew a crumpled and dirty memorandum book from his pocket and turned over the pages, wetting his thumb every time. He looked at it attentively and then spoke.