It was late before the final words were vaguely wafted up to him: “_Bonsoir, mon ami._” “_Bonne nuit, ma chère Hélène._” CHAPTER V He had not imagined madame Vervier coming down to breakfast; but she was up long before it. Giles, looking from his window at seven, was astonished to see her form, wrapped in a white bath-robe, advancing leisurely from the cliff that she had, evidently, just ascended after a morning swim. She was alone. It was so early that she had awakened no one to share with her the delicate sting of the morning waves. Giles indeed imagined, watching her, that these early hours were set apart by her for solitude; that no one ever shared them with her. She walked, her russet head bent down, a little as she had walked in the Bois; meditating, it seemed. He heard her afterwards on the verandah, in the salon below, moving quietly to and fro. Her calm voice directed Albertine. “_Ne réveillez pas mademoiselle. Elle est si fatiguée_,” he heard. A little while later, Albertine’s voice broke out far away, at the garden gate, in vehement yet not unfriendly altercation with the baker’s lady; and then, stealing deliciously into his sleepy senses, mingling with the fragrance of the carnations by his bedside, the aroma of roasting coffee-beans delicately tinctured the air. Albertine came in with a jug of steaming water and it was time to get up. When he went down at half-past eight, monsieur de Valenbois was singing in the drawing-room with madame Vervier at the piano; the song was “_D’Une Prison_,” and he sang well. Albertine was laying breakfast on the verandah, and Giles stood leaning against a pillar listening to the song. At its end madame Vervier soberly commended the singer, yet turned a leaf, here and there, to suggest an alteration. “_Qu’as-tu fait de ta jeunesse?_” monsieur de Valenbois sang again, with a new poignancy; and yet again. “_Bien; très bien_,” said madame Vervier’s quiet voice. Then monsieur de Maubert appeared, and they came out to greet him and Giles. Monsieur de Maubert wore a small white woollen shawl over his shoulders and madame Vervier asked him with solicitude whether he would rather have breakfasted in the _salle-à-manger_, as usual. It had seemed so deliciously mild a morning that she had told Albertine to lay the table here. Monsieur de Maubert said he delighted in the plan. He would merely take precautions against a _courant d’air_; and to ensure him further from this calamity his chair was placed in a corner behind the table, Giles aiding in his disposal and amused by the idea of Jove sheltering from a _courant d’air_.