"Mademoiselle shut the door when I wanted to follow her. I could not do it with the best will in the world. Mademoiselle seems to be very determined." "You are a fool. And the second lady, the older one, Fräulein Sidonie von Werben, or were you out of the way again?" "Oh! no, monsieur! She is a great lady who gives herself airs; there was no difficulty with her. She walked ten paces forward and then made her curtsey. Oh, monsieur! such a curtsey! I could not help thinking of Madame la Duchesse de Rosambert, from whose service I came into monsieur's." "Good! and madame?" "Madame could not help smiling--a melancholy smile, monsieur, that went to one's heart." And François laid his hand with a hypocritical look on his dazzlingly white closely-plaited shirt-front with its large gold studs. "You may dispense with those grimaces in my presence! Go on." "Madame, who had passed her left arm through mademoiselle's, and did not let it go now, held out her right hand and said: 'Ah, que nous----'" "In French?" "No, monsieur, in German." "Then repeat it in German; the same words, if you please." "Do we meet again thus after eighty-seven years?" "Twenty-seven, idiot! But the actual meeting?" "It was such a confusion, monsieur! I could not distinguish anything in particular; it was impossible, monsieur!" Giraldi shrugged his shoulders impatiently. "If Count Golm calls, tell him that I am at home to him, and add that monsieur can only spare him a few minutes because he is himself expected in madame's salon. Then mention, casually, who is in the salon. Do you understand?" "Perfectly, monsieur." "One thing more; I do not pay two hundred francs a month to people to whom anything is impossible. You must perfect yourself if you wish to remain any longer in my service." "I will do everything to satisfy monsieur, and to prove myself worthy of the confidence with which monsieur honours me." François bowed himself out of the door. "That is to say," said Giraldi, "you have confided too much in me already to dare to send me away at a moment's notice. It is our misfortune that we cannot live without these creatures. In Machiavelli's time people took the precaution of not letting them live long. In these days one has to pay double without assuring one's safety. Ah! the Count." François had opened the door to Count Golm; the Count entered with hurried steps. He looked out of temper and absent; his attitude and the tone of his voice showed the carelessness of the man of rank, who does not think it worth his while to conceal his dissatisfaction. "I am sorry to disturb you," he said; "but I will not take up your time for long; I have only come to tell you that in all probability nothing will now come of our bargain." "I should be sorry for that for your sake, Count," answered Giraldi. "Why for my sake?" "We make nothing by the bargain, Count Golm."