“I haven’t waited for that to read it,” said Olivier, who didn’t much care for Passavant’s book, and tried his best to be amiable without being fulsome. Did Passavant detect in his tone a certain tincture of disdain? He went on quickly: “Oh, you needn’t say anything about it. If you were to tell me you liked it, I should be obliged to doubt either your taste or your sincerity. No; no one knows better than I do what’s lacking in the book. I wrote it much too quickly. To tell the truth, the whole time I was writing it I was thinking of my next one. Ah! that one is a different matter. I care about that one. Yes, I care about it exceedingly. You’ll see; you’ll see.... I’m so very sorry, but you really must leave me now.... Unless.... No, no; we don’t know each other well enough yet, and your people are certainly expecting you back for dinner. Well, good-bye; au revoir. I’ll write your name in the book; allow me.” He had risen; he went up to his writing desk. While he was stooping to write, Olivier stepped forward and glanced out of the corner of his eye at the card which the servant had just brought in: VICTOR STROUVILHOU The name meant nothing to him. Passavant handed Olivier the copy of _The Horizontal Bar_, and as Olivier was preparing to read the inscription: “Look at it later,” said Passavant, slipping the book under his arm. It was not till he was in the street that Olivier read the manuscript motto with which the Comte de Passavant had adorned the first page and which he had culled out of the book itself: _“Prithee, Orlando, a few steps further. I am not perfectly sure that I dare altogether take your meaning.”_ Underneath which he had added: To OLIVIER MOLINIER from his presumptive friend COMTE ROBERT DE PASSAVANT An ambiguous motto, which made Olivier wonder, but which after all he was perfectly free to interpret as he pleased. Olivier got home just after Edouard had left, weary of waiting. XVI VINCENT AND LILIAN VINCENT’S education, which had been materialistic in tendency, prevented him from believing in the supernatural--which gave the demon an immense advantage. The demon never made a frontal attack upon Vincent; he approached him crookedly and furtively. One of his cleverest manœuvres consists in presenting us our defeats as if they were victories. What inclined Vincent to consider his behaviour to Laura as a victory of his will over his affections, was that, being naturally kind-hearted, he had been obliged to force himself, to steel himself to be hard to her. Upon a closer examination of the evolution of Vincent’s character in this intrigue, I discover various stages, which I will point out for the reader’s edification: