Bert thought that was highly probable, but he did not say so. “Just as you say,” he said. “What time?” “Eight o’clock. If I’m not here by that time, go ahead and eat.” “What about you?” “I’m going to camp in that café on the corner there until I find her.” Ken’s jaws became prominent. “I’ll stay there till I’m a permanent improvement.” Arlette came in, casting apprehensive glances at Kendall; she was unsmiling and had nothing to say beyond the greetings of the morning. Ken realized that he was in her disfavor. “Arlette,” he said. She paused in the door and, glancing up to his face quickly, let her eyes shift to the carpet. “Yes, monsieur,” she said. “You’re angry with me.” “_Non, monsieur._” “Yes you are. You should be. I’ve been a fool.” She looked up again, this time scrutinizing his face more carefully. “Monsieur did not conduct himself with wisdom,” she said. “What should I have done, Arlette?” He was really curious to know what she would answer. “It is never wise to hurt where one is loved,” she said. “Also one should be sure that no mistake is made—” “But it was a mistake, Arlette.... If you loved as you told me you did once, and the man you loved behaved as I did, what would you do? Would you forgive him?” “Me?” said Arlette. “Ah, who can say! It is many years, and love is only a thing to remember sometimes.... But I, monsieur, was not as Mademoiselle Andree is. Oh, no. There was weight to me, and a temper of the highest. Oh yes, and I spoke many words with great readiness. It is so.... What would you? Mademoiselle Andree is not at any point the same. She is gentle and sweet, monsieur, and it may be she is forgiving. As for me, I think if any man had so behaved to me he would have taken himself away with words in his ear that, I’ll warrant, would have leaped through to his clumsy brain, _oui_, and with other reminders that I was not to be dealt with after such a manner.... But, as I have said, I was of a weight, and my temper was high.” “But you would have forgiven?” Arlette waggled her head and wiped her chin on the back of her hand. “At least,” she said, “I should have made him earn my forgiveness.... Oh, Monsieur Ken, it was not well for you to treat her so; it was of a cruelty.... But I believe she will forgive; her eyes were of the kind that forgive with too great readiness.” She turned and was about to disappear when she leaned far back to allow her face to present itself at a droll angle in the doorway. “Jealousy,” she said, “is a disease that makes heavy hearts. In very truth, I have seen it.... It is much better if one is not jealous. One cannot at the same time be jealous and wise.... And always there are regrets.” “Will you have dinner at eight to-night? A nice dinner. I hope to find Mademoiselle Andree and bring her home again.” “Find her? But monsieur has but to go to her address. She has not gone away?” “I do not know her address.” Arlette sighed and waggled her head ponderously.