Dalville had heard nothing of the scene in the reception room, being occupied in kissing _what was beneath the candlestick_, which he had taken pains to place over the head of a very attractive young woman; so that he gave little thought to what was happening elsewhere. And Madame de la Thomassinière, intent only upon making new victims, had not listened to the unkind remarks concerning the host and hostess that were flying about in all directions. Soon the salon was nearly empty. The ladies took their leave and Auguste did likewise, well pleased that he had passed the evening without playing écarté, and to have discovered that one can enjoy oneself without losing money. When he reached home he went upstairs and rang, but no one opened the door. As Bertrand usually sat up for his master, little Tony seldom carried a key. Having rung again with no better success, Auguste reflected that Bertrand, whom he had told to go out and enjoy himself, might very well not have returned; so he sent Tony to inquire of the concierge and he remained on the landing, thinking that a few days earlier he would readily have found a place to pass the night without leaving the house. His neighbor, who had probably heard him come upstairs and ring, donned a peignoir and left her room, candle in hand. She went down one flight and saw her neighbor calmly pacing the floor of the landing. She descended a few more stairs, coughed slightly, and decided at last to go down to him. A pretty woman is very seductive in a peignoir, with her hair loosely secured by a silk handkerchief, from beneath which a few stray locks escape and fall upon a white breast, which the peignoir never conceals altogether, because there are always one or two ill-placed pins, which betray the secrets of beauty, or, perhaps, act as its confederates. "Can't you get in, Monsieur Dalville?" asked Madame Saint-Edmond, in the soft voice which she could assume so readily when she was not left behind with a bill to pay. Auguste bowed low to his neighbor and replied coldly: "As you see, madame." "Monsieur Bertrand must have forgotten himself somewhere. Perhaps something has happened to him." "I trust not." "That would be a great pity! such a fine fellow, and so fond of you!" Léonie heaved a profound sigh and said nothing more. Auguste leaned over the rail to see if Tony were coming up. Léonie, finding that Auguste said nothing more, decided to reopen the conversation. "Perhaps you would like to sit in my room, monsieur, until you can get in? I should think that you would be more comfortable than on this landing." "I thank you, madame, but I do not wish to disturb you or to interfere with your sleep." "It won't disturb me, monsieur. As for my sleep, for several days I haven't slept at all." "Is it because you have lost your poodle again, madame?" "How unkind! How you make fun of my grief!"