The train was late; Madame Landry wished to set me free: "The time is getting on ... if you have to go as far as your cousins'...." I naturally replied that I had plenty of time before me. "And then you want your papers!" Jeannine insinuated maliciously. It is true that I watched for the arrival of the Paris papers every evening. Simply a matter of habit; so little news concerned me! The day before, as it happened, the post had brought me nothing. I almost suspected Jeannine of having laid hands on the mail. In any case, my vexation and my grumbles had delighted her. An absolute child! The train still did not arrive. Conversation languished. I started a subject likely to interest the travellers. They were going to make a short stay on the shores of Lake Leman, a part which was strange to them, but which I said they would think they recognised, it bore so great a resemblance on the whole to the French Riviera, the neighbourhood of Cannes and Mentone, where they spent the winter. I told them of a comfortable hotel at Montreux. Jeannine seemed preoccupied. "We shall miss Ballaigues." "She loves this part of the world," said her grandmother. "I very much hope we shall be back no later than next week," continued the girl. I teased: "One makes up one's mind about that; and then when one is happy elsewhere...." "Must I take my oath on it?" "By Jove! That would make me decide to stay." I reflected that with her away, Ballaigues would lose much of its charm. With the exception of Cipollina I had had nothing to do with the other guests at the hotel, foreigners for the most part. My holiday was nearly at an end. I did not doubt that at my request my director, accommodating creature that he was, would make no difficulties about extending my stay in Switzerland by a fortnight. But if the Landrys did not.... The girl read my thoughts. "You know quite well," she said, "that we've arranged to go up the Dent de Vaulion." "It will be the Pendant du Suchet."