"Nonsense, Marianne," said Lissac coldly, "on my faith, I see I have done well to preserve some weapon against you. You are certainly very dangerous!" "More than you imagine," she replied. He moved slightly backward, seeing that she wished to pass him to reach the door. "You will not give me back my letters?" she asked in a harsh and menacing tone as she stood on the threshold of the room. Guy stooped without heeding her and picked up the gloves that were lying on the carpet and handed them to the young woman: "This is your property, I think?" This was said with insolently refined politeness. Marianne took the gloves, and as a last insult, like a blow on the cheek, she threw them at Guy's face, who turned aside and the gloves fell on the bed where just before these two hatreds had come together in kisses of passion. "Miserable coward!" said Marianne, surveying Lissac from head to foot with an expression of scorn, while he stood still, his monocle dangling at the end of a fine cord on his breast, near the buttonhole of his jacket that bore the red rosette; his face was pale but wore a sly expression. That silk rosette looked there like a vermilion note stamped on a dark ground, and it seemed to pierce like a luminous drill into Marianne's eyes; and with her head erect, pallid face and trembling lip she passed before the domestic who hastened to open the door and went downstairs, repeating to herself with all the distracted fury of a fixed idea: "To be avenged! To be avenged! Oh! to be avenged!" She jumped into a cab. "Well?"--said the coachman, looking with blinking eyes at this pale-faced, distraught-looking woman. She remained there as if seeking an idea, a purpose. "Where shall we go?" repeated the driver. Suddenly Marianne's face trembled with a joyous expression and she abruptly said: "To the Prefecture of Police!" * * * * * _The general rose, grasping his glass as if he would shiver it, and while the _parfait_ overflowed on to the plates, he cried in a hoarse voice, as if he were at the head of his division:_ _"I love bronze--I love bronze--...."_ [Illustration: THE BANQUET] VI There was a crowd at the _Mirlitons_ Exposition.