I was curious to know the reason of this final warning, but M. Thierry was once more the historian, the discreet official. "No, no," he said, "these impressions are too personal. Above all, if that man is no longer at Lautenburg, never ask anything about him. Wait till his name is mentioned or some allusion is made to him. Come, dear boy, it is time to go." We shook hands. I have never seen him since. * * * * * * The feeling of depression in which this visit left me quickly vanished when I got to the money-changers, where I converted half my German notes into French money. I spent the rest of the afternoon in visits to tailors, boot makers and hosiers. For the first time in my life I knew the exquisite, almost painful joy of spending money without reckoning. As I was stock size I had no difficulty at "Old England" in finding a suit, overcoat, and boots to fit. My shabby clothes were wrapped up and sent to my lodgings. Then, as my confidence rose, I tried my luck at a fashionable tailor's. On the strength of my new appointment, I ordered dress clothes, a frock coat and another lounge suit I paid the eight hundred francs required in advance in return for the promise that they would be delivered during the evening of the next day. Seven o'clock. Oh! the wondrous beauty of the Boulevard des Capucines in October! Oh, the joy of finding oneself well dressed and with money--lord of all, absolutely lord of all! The pale blue lamps of the Olympia presented their barbaric curtain of light. Cabs rolled by. Taxis tooted. The Madeleine, peering through the evening mist, raised on high its huge, shadowy entablature. On, on. All this would be behind me the day after tomorrow. I meant to enjoy my ephemeral royalty. I experienced a curious sensation. I had money, but I could not make it give me acquaintances on the spot I had money, but without a friend to prove it, I might just as well have been without it. A sudden recollection brought a bright idea to my mind. I went into Weber's. Ribeyre and his friends of the previous evening would be just on the point of meeting. The thought of Clotilde possessed my mind. She had been wearing a long black velvet cloak above which peeped her small head with its coils of glossy fair hair. What a treat to appear before her in my new glory! Ribeyre had already arrived. "Hullo, old boy! All's well. I've just seen Marçais. He's delighted. You seem to have the voice of the charmer all right. Good Lord, you haven't wasted much time," he said, noticing my transformation.