“My friend,” said Marceline, overflowing with admiration, “you talk like a book, and I wonder that you have not more often tried to teach us these things, for we are so ignorant. You must not leave a stone unturned to find the treasure. I do not fear the destruction of the earth on account of the object of our search.” Adolphe turned around to reprove Marceline for her flippancy, but at this moment M. Milfroid, the Commissioner of Police, approached, and Adolphe rose to greet his friend. Adolphe introduced M. Milfroid to M. and Mme. Longuet. He was a man of about forty years of age, elegantly dressed, immaculate gloves, a silvery ringlet of hair on the white forehead. He advanced, smiling and bowing. “We have often heard our friend M. Adolphe speak of you,” said Marceline. “Your fame has gone before you.” “Oh, madame, I have known you for a long time. Every time I meet M. Lecamus he speaks to me of his friends of the Rue Gerauds, and in such terms that it has been my greatest desire to have the happiness of being presented to you.” Marceline was conquered by such gallant manners. “I hear that you play the violin very well,” she said. “I am equally interested in philosophy,” said M. Milfroid. “An interest which I owe to M. Adolphe, who is continually in dispute with me over the immortality of the soul, and other psychic matters. He has really made a convert of me.” “Monsieur,” said Théophraste, who had not yet taken part in the conversation, “Adolphe and I like to converse about serious matters, also. We were just speaking of the relations between the soul and the body, and the different ways that the soul has of behaving with the body.” “Ah!” said M. Milfroid, who desired to shine before Marceline, “are you able to distinguish between matter and mind, or the material and the spiritual? Matter and mind are the same thing in the eyes of science. That is to say, they constitute alike one unit, one force, produce at one time the phenomenon of cause and effect, tending to one end, the progressive steps of existence. You are the only ones, gentlemen, to still make that old distinction between matter and mind.” After a while they rose and returned through the Place de la Concorde. At the entrance to the Rue Royale, there was a crowd of people, shouting and gesticulating. Théophraste, an old Parisian, wanted to know what was taking place, and flung himself into the crowd. “Look out for pickpockets,” Marceline called to him. “Oh, madame,” said Monsieur Milfroid, the Commissioner of Police, “there are no pickpockets when I am about.” “It is true. We should be in no danger when you are here.” “I do not know about that,” said Adolphe, looking about them. “My friend here appears more dangerous to me than all the pickpockets on earth.” At this they all laughed.