And she passed swiftly between the stone lions, leaving her lover under the impression of a fairy-tale vision. In the drawing-room, after dinner, M. Berthier d'Eyzelles read the newspaper, and the Princess Seniavine played solitaire. Therese sat, her eyes half closed over a book. The Princess asked whether she found what she was reading amusing. "I do not know. I was reading and thinking. Paul Vence is right: 'We find only ourselves in books.'" Through the hangings came from the billiard-room the voices of the players and the click of the balls. "I have it!" exclaimed the Princess, throwing down the cards. She had wagered a big sum on a horse which was running that day at the Chantilly races. Therese said she had received a letter from Fiesole. Miss Bell announced her forthcoming marriage with Prince Eusebia Albertinelli della Spina. The Princess laughed: "There's a man who will render a service to her." "What service?" asked Therese. "He will disgust her with men, of course." Montessuy came into the parlor joyfully. He had won the game. He sat beside Berthier-d'Eyzelles, and, taking a newspaper from the sofa, said: "The Minister of Finance announces that he will propose, when the Chamber reassembles, his savings-bank bill." This bill was to give to savings-banks the authority to lend money to communes, a proceeding which would take from Montessuy's business houses their best customers. "Berthier," asked the financier, "are you resolutely hostile to that bill?" Berthier nodded. Montessuy rose, placed his hand on the Deputy's shoulder, and said: "My dear Berthier, I have an idea that the Cabinet will fall at the beginning of the session." He approached his daughter. "I have received an odd letter from Le Menil." Therese rose and closed the door that separated the parlor from the billiard-room. She was afraid of draughts, she said. "A singular letter," continued Montessuy. "Le Menil will not come to Joinville. He has bought the yacht Rosebud. He is on the Mediterranean, and can not live except on the water. It is a pity. He is the only one who knows how to manage a hunt." At this instant Dechartre came into the room with Count Martin, who, after beating him at billiards, had acquired a great affection for him and was explaining to him the dangers of a personal tax based on the number of servants one kept. CHAPTER XXXI AN UNWELCOME APPARITION A pale winter sun piercing the mists of the Seine, illuminated the dogs painted by Oudry on the doors of the dining room.