They were sitting now. Charmian was on a divan beside Madame Sennier. "A clever man!" said Madame Sennier, decisively. "I met him once at the opera. You remember, Jacques, I told you what he said about your orchestration?" "Yes, yes, about my use of the flutes in connection with muted strings and the horns to give the effect of water." "I want Monsieur Sennier to know him," said Mrs. Shiffney. "I'm so sorry, but he's not here," said Charmian. Just then Susan Fleet came in. Mrs. Shiffney turned to her. "Susan! Such a disappointment! But, of course, you know!" "About Mr. Heath? Yes." "Has he gone back to England?" said Max Elliot. "Oh, no. He's in Algeria." Charmian obviously hesitated, saw that any want of frankness would seem extraordinary, and added: "He has gone to Constantine with a friend." Her voice was reluctant. "Do have some tea!" she added quickly, pulling the bell, which Pierre promptly answered with the tea things. "Constantine!" said Mrs. Shiffney. "That's no distance, only a night in the train. Can't you persuade him to come back and see us? Do be a dear and telegraph." She spoke in her most airy way. "I would in a minute. But he's not gone merely to amuse himself." "The opera!" said Mrs. Shiffney. "By the way, is it indiscreet to ask who wrote the libretto?" Again Charmian hesitated, and again overcame her hesitation. "It is by a Frenchman, or rather an Algerian, French but born here. His name is Gillier." "Armand Gillier?" exclaimed Madame Sennier, while her husband threw out his hands in a gesture of surprise. "Yes. Do you know him?" "Know him!" exclaimed the composer. "When have I not known him? Three libretti by him have I rejected--three, madame. He challenged me to a duel, pistols, if you please! I to fire, and perhaps be shot, because he cannot write a good libretto! Which has your poor unfortunate husband accepted?" Charmian handed the tea. She felt Madame Sennier's hard and observant eyes--they were yellow eyes, and small--fixed upon her. "Claude's libretto has never been offered to anyone else," she answered. Madame Sennier slightly shrugged her shoulders. "And so Gillier is with your husband!" she observed. Apparently she was clairvoyante. "Well, madame, you are a brave woman. That is all I can say!" "Brave! But why?" Mrs. Shiffney's eyes looked full of laughter. "Why, Henriette?" she asked, leaning forward. "Do tell us." "Gillier makes other people like he is," said Madame Sennier. "But what does it matter? Each one for himself! Don't you say that in England?" She had turned to Max Elliot. "That applies specially to women," she continued, with her curiously ruthless and too self-possessed air. "Each woman for herself, and the Devil will carefully take the hindmost. Why should he not?"