On the death of her father, Anne de Sézery, entirely unprepared for it, found herself heiress of a ruined estate. The old man with senile cunning, had for a long time concealed the fact, presenting to the world a bold front, like a crumbling castle, with riddled walls and undermined foundations. The suitors gone, the château sold, the creditors almost entirely paid, she disappeared. In her pride she had told no one of her intention. It was rumored that she was earning her living in England by giving lessons in music and literature in an aristocratic boarding-school. Little by little she ceased to be mentioned. She had never returned to her native country. Ten years had passed. Was it really ten years? And if it were ten years, how could he recall so distinctly that disquieting face, at once so sad and so passionate? She must be thirty-two or thirty-three now. And here she was reëntering his life with all the serenity of the impressions of youth, sure of her power to enchant. This strange phantom had chosen his best friend as a means to recall herself to his memory. How had Albert Derize found her again? By what sudden turn of things had he come at last to understand this strange combination of ardor and despondency? She had made herself remembered by the passion she inspired. Had not her golden eyes in those days demanded absolute love, love given without thought of sorrow, or of fear of risk? Among these green box-files, arranged methodically like the limited sentiments of civilized lives, Philippe Lagier, disgusted with his fate, longed for the inexorable happiness she offered. He had the proof of this happiness with him. With a mechanical movement he took from his pocketbook the two letters and the telegram which he had received from his friend since the separation. They were two short notes, expressing no regret; but then, for regret Albert was too proud. In the first, Albert entrusted him with his defense, in case divorce proceedings were instituted; in the second, he begged him to keep Anne de Sézery's name out of the trial, and to offer in exchange a complete submission to all Mme. Derize's demands as to the custody of the children. By a strange contradiction he had subordinated all his family ties to this new passion, and wished to keep quiet the name of the girl whom he did not wish to compromise, because he had no intention of marrying her: it seemed as if he had decided henceforth to live without the pale of law and society. That very morning, informed of the difficulties which would attend his proposition, he had wired that he would arrive with the evening express, and gave his mother's address on the Boulevard des Adieux. Such were the three actors. To reconstruct the drama, it would perhaps suffice to read the evidence alluded to in the petition. When M. Tabourin reappeared, Philippe, whose imagination was over-stimulated, demanded: "What about the letter in question?"