A peculiar smile played about the Frenchman’s mouth as he left the car and strolled slowly along the Währingerstrasse, later turning into the Nussdorferstrasse. Occasionally he stopped before a show-window, shaking his head as he observed the prices marked on the goods displayed. Finally he reached the Billrothstrasse, which eventually leads into the vineyard-studded suburbs Sievering and Grinzing. His attention was caught by a sign on the door of a modern apartment house in the Billrothstrasse. “For rent: Small, elegantly furnished apartment with studio; immediate possession. Apply to janitor.” Quickly making up his mind, M. Dufresne entered the house and sought out the janitor, who, taking him up to the fifth floor by means of an elevator, showed him the apartment. It consisted of a bed-room, a parlor furnished as a den, and adjoining this, a large studio-like room with a skylight. A bathroom was also included. “How does this apartment happen to be vacant?” “For heaven’s sake,” cried the janitor, “why, there are about twenty thousand vacant apartments in Vienna today. An architect, a Herr Rosenbaum, used to live here--but he had to leave with all the rest of the Jews. The landlord bought his furniture, but hasn’t been able to find a tenant because there’s no kitchen.” Five minutes later a deposit in the shape of a five hundred thousand-kronen bill was in the janitor’s hand, and M. Dufresne had rented the apartment. Walking more rapidly, he proceeded on toward Grinzing, gaily swinging his cane and saying to himself: “A good beginning--I couldn’t have had better luck with the apartment.” But the closer he came to Grinzing the more excited he became, his cheek flushed, and his merry brown eyes grew feverishly bright. When he had reached the Kobenzlgasse his steps became slower and almost dragged--he seemed to be approaching a fateful moment. Drawing a deep breath, he stopped before the house of Hofrat Spineder, and pulled his broad-brimmed gray hat down over his eyes so that only his moustache and beard remained visible. Apparently undecided, he walked back and forth, at times looking nervously at his wrist-watch, whose hands pointed to half-past eleven. Just as he stood before the green gate again it opened to let out a maid. At this instant, while the gate was open, M. Dufresne saw a girl come out from the door of the house, to the left of the court--a young girl, dressed in white, her golden head uncovered, a book in her hand; she walked toward the back, through the court and up into the garden.