Her thoughts claimed her again. I threw my cigarette into the fire, and stood waiting her pleasure. But she seemed to have no more to say, for she rose from the seat and held out her hand to me. "Will you 'shake hands?'" she said, the last two words in English; and she smiled again. I hastened to do as she asked me, and she moved toward the door. "Perhaps," she said, "I shall see you to-morrow morning." "I shall be here." Then I added: "I could not help hearing you talk of moving elsewhere." She stood still in the middle of the room; she opened her lips to speak, shut them again, and ended by saying nothing more than: "Yes, we talked of it. My mother wishes it. Good-night, Mr. Aycon." I bade her good-night, and she passed slowly through the door, which I closed behind her. I turned again to the fire, saying: "What would the duchess think of that?" I did not even know what I thought of it myself; of one thing only I felt sure---that what I had heard of Marie Delhasse was not all that there was to learn about her. I was lodged in a large room on the third floor, and when I awoke the bright sun beamed on the convent where, as I presume, Mme. de Saint-Maclou lay, and on the great Mount beyond it in the distance. I have never risen with a more lively sense of unknown possibilities in the day before me. These two women who had suddenly crossed my path, and their relations to the pale puffy-cheeked man at the little _château_, might well produce results more startling than had seemed to be offered even by such a freak as the original expedition undertaken by Gustave de Berensac and me. And now Gustave had fallen away and I was left to face the thing alone. For face it I must. My promise to the duchess bound me: had it not I doubt whether I should have gone; for my interest was not only in the duchess. I had my coffee upstairs, and then, putting on my hat, went down for a stroll. So long as the duke did not come to Avranches, I could show my face boldly--and was not he busy preparing for his guests? I crossed the threshold of the hotel. Just at the entrance stood Marie Delhasse; opposite her was a thickset fellow, neatly dressed and wearing mutton-chop whiskers. As I came out I raised my hat. The man appeared not to notice me, though his eyes fell on me for a moment. I passed quickly by--in fact, as quickly as I could--for it struck me at once that this man must be Lafleur, and I did not want him to give the duke a description of the unknown gentleman who was staying at Avranches. Yet, as I went, I had time to hear Marie's slow musical voice say: "I'm not coming at all to-day." I was very glad of it, and pursued my round of the town with a lighter heart. Presently, after half an hour's walk, I found myself opposite the church, and thus nearly back at the hotel: and in front of the church stood Marie Delhasse, looking at _the façade_. Raising my hat I went up to her, her friendliness of the evening before encouraging me.