"After all, he may do as he pleases now, since I have been paid." While this interview was taking place in the Rue des Bourdonnaise, the young girl whom they had left in the luxurious boudoir, arose from the lounge as soon as those who brought her had departed. She approached a mirror which reflected the whole figure; one glance sufficed to distract and give her occupation. Julia arranged her hair, passing her fingers through it and re-formed its ringlets; she examined herself, she smiled; Julia was a coquette; so to some extent is every woman, they say. To judge whether she be more or less so it is only necessary to count the minutes that she passes before her mirror; ordinarily she is not the prettiest who there looks at herself longest. At last Julia appeared satisfied with herself; she left the mirror and ran about the boudoir and into the neighboring room, admiring everything which she had pretended to view with indifference as long as anyone could see her. She stopped before an alabaster clock which bore a little love. The hand pointed nearly to eleven o'clock. Julia sighed and frowned, and threw herself into an easy chair, murmuring,-- "He does not come." While the young girl sighingly regarded the clock, Chaudoreille asked Marcel to lead him to the dining-room, saying that he was dying of hunger and that since the morning he had been running in the service of monsieur le marquis. Marcel hastened to offer his guest a good supper, to which the chevalier did full honor. While eating, Chaudoreille recounted his exploits to his old friend, and as Marcel listened to everything in good faith, our Gascon, delighted at finding someone who had faith in his prowess, had already killed fifteen rivals and delivered eight victims of tyranny, before he had begun a second helping. "Old fellow," said Marcel, opening his eyes wide, and helping himself to drink, "it seems to me that you have a hot head." "Hot? By jingo, say boiling; say volcanic. It is not my fault, but I can't be moderate. I am a rake of honor, a real devil; that is the word." "But why did you call for help against the statues in the garden?" "Listen, my dear Marcel: At first I could not see that they were statues, and when one is brave one believes that one sees robbers everywhere; you don't understand that, because you are cool-blooded, and, besides that, you can very well understand that I could not allow myself to kill anybody in the Marquis de Villebelle's house without having asked permission." "Hush, no one names the marquis here." "Ah, I understand. That is correct. It is necessary to have some mystery. Hang it! This is the abode of love incognito. Say, Marcel, have you been living long in this house?" "Nearly five years." "You must have seen some beauties." "I have seen nothing, for here it is necessary to see and not to see."