"That may be; but I have not been able to do it. I tried to distract my thoughts, to fall in love with other women. One day, I fancied that I was; but the illusion soon vanished; and then, the last time I met Fanny, she was so sweet with me that the memory of that occasion was not well calculated to destroy my love." "Then you love her? you are sure of it?" "Nonsense, my dear fellow! why do you ask me that?" "Oh! because I had thought of something else; and if you were no longer in love with the widow---- But, as you are still daft over her, why, that's at an end; and I believe that things will go on now to suit you." "I am going to see Adolphine, Fanny's sister, to-day." "Why shouldn't you go to see Fanny herself? I should say that that would be the shortest way. I can give you her address." "Oh! you can't mean that, my friend! that I should go to that young widow's house at once--I, who have not been to see her since her marriage! It wouldn't be proper. She must give me permission first." "But, as she urged you to call on her when she was a married woman, it seems to me that she can afford to receive you now that she's a widow." "To be sure, but not right away; I must see her first, at her father's. She must go there often, now?" "I should rather see you go to the little widow's than to her father's." "Why so?" "Why, indeed! That's the sequel of the idea I spoke about just now. However, do as you think best; the main point is that you have come in time, and that you should stay in Paris; because I am horribly bored while you are away. On my word, I seem to miss something." "Dear Arthur! I am really touched by the interest you take in everything that concerns me.--And yourself, my friend--are you happy, are you doing well in business?" "I can't do badly, because I do no business at all. I am content--because I am a philosopher! I am happy--when I have my cue; but I haven't had it for some time." "I'll bet that you have no money." "You would win very often if you made that bet." "And you didn't say a word about it! Am I no longer your friend?" "My dear Gustave, you overwhelm me;--but I owe you something now, and----" "What does that matter? Do friends keep accounts with one another? Isn't he who can oblige the other the happier?" "Damme! if all my friends of the old days had been of your way of thinking!" Gustave produced his wallet, took out a banknote, and thrust it into Cherami's hand, saying: "Here, my good friend, take this; and when it's all gone, tell me so. Now, adieu! I must leave you and go to Monsieur Gerbault's; I dine with my uncle to-day; but if you will dine with me to-morrow, be in front of the Passage de l'Opera at six o'clock." "If I will! Par la sambleu! why, it will be a regular fete for me." "In that case, adieu, until to-morrow!" When Gustave was a long distance away, Cherami continued to look after him, saying to himself: