What was he expecting from these meetings? His plans and unforeseen opportunities provided a reason for the necessary interviews. He decided to take Albert's note-books to Elizabeth. She received him in the garden, where, before a background of pines and birches, a few clambering roses were blooming: it was already September. "What is that package?" she asked him jestingly. He used that bantering tone which destroys all positive convictions and ultimately leads to a mental attitude that can take nothing seriously. "Those are your faults. They are many." "My faults?" "Have you forgotten our talk at Grenoble. I told you that never in my career had I known a case of divorce where all the grievances were on one side. You have challenged me to enumerate yours. Here they are." "Well, I am listening," she replied incredulously. "No, no, you will read them." "You have taken the trouble to write them." "No--not I." "Who then?" But she had already guessed and thought it wiser to be on her guard. "It is Albert. Take them." "Oh, no, thank you." He took no notice of her refusal. "In two hours you will have time to decipher these notes. You can read them this evening and return them to me to-morrow." "I am dining with Mme. Passerat to-night." "Ah yes,--I am invited, too. And to-morrow?" "To-morrow we are going to motor to the Castle at Sassenage, and our evening is engaged too." "Well, you will find a free day." "Why do you want me to read these books?" Her refusal was becoming less positive: this persual imposed no obligation upon her. "You will find there the complaint I am going to formulate against you in my brief." She was astonished, and blushed, which gave her face the expression of a young girl about to make her début. "I thought," she said, "that Albert was going to make no defense." This noticeable anxiety aroused Philippe Lagier, whose reply was not without a touch of cruelty. "He will make so good a defense that he will sue for a divorce--not separation." "Ah," she murmured, and the color which had overspread her cheeks faded quickly. He immediately regretted having tormented her. Was Albert's viewpoint so definite that he had a right to use it as a threat? And had he not decided to play a double rôle, in order to decline to take part in the trial? "Does he wish to marry her?" she asked weakly. "I do not know." But she was ashamed of her question and quickly expressed her indifference. "Oh, it's all the same to me. He may do as he likes; he is dead to me." It is true that she added, unconscious of her contradiction: "Very well, leave me the books. I will glance over them when I have a moment to spare, and shall return them to you."