"Well, you know I--ahem--have taken quite a fancy to her. She's a ripping girl, and as clever as they make them, and I am afraid this silly mistake has upset the whole apple-cart." "Are you really so gone on her as all that?" enquired Riche with a wink of his eye. "Well, I confess I am a bit in love with her. By Jove, Riche, she is the finest girl in all France." "My word, you must be in love with her," Riche replied, "I had not the least idea that the little blind god had wounded you so deeply; ma foi! but it's becoming serious." "Really, monsieur, you must not joke at me like this. If you only knew what a splendid girl she is, and how my future happiness depends on my getting her hand, you would not laugh at me." Riche gave a low whistle. "By Jove," he said to himself, "he is madly in love with her and no mistake." "Come! let's drop the subject," he said in a voice of despair, "all my hopes are shattered by that cursed plaster. It's finished now, and it is no good crying over spilt milk." "What nonsense you are talking. My dear boy, it's the finest thing for you that could ever have happened." "The finest thing that could have happened? What do you mean?" "My dear fellow, you've got the game in your own hands now. By putting that beastly plaster, as you call it, on your chest, she handed you the trump card. You have only to appear angry to bring her to her knees, and you can name your own conditions of capitulation. Get a diamond ring, my boy, and the sooner the better." "Do you really think she will let me put it on her finger?" "If she likes you ever so little, and has no one else on her string she will, especially if you make your declaration of love at the psychological moment." "And how am I to know when that is?" enquired Marcel in a tone of great anxiety. "When she comes to beg your forgiveness. But," added Riche, "you must not forgive her right away, you must first play with your fish. Pay out the line until the fish is getting exhausted, and then you will be able to haul it in without any difficulty." "Upon my soul, Riche, you are an artful card. Where did you manage to learn these things?" "Ich habe gelebt and geliebt," replied Riche with a smile, humming Schubert's well known air. Marcel wrung his hand. "Thanks awfully. I will follow your advice to the letter," and going into the hall he picked up his hat and stick and left the hotel arm in arm with his friend to see the beauties and sights of the place, but more especially with the object of purchasing the ring to adorn his divinity's hand, so as to be ready for the attack when they returned for lunch. Meanwhile Delapine was walking arm in arm with Monsieur Payot and Renée up and down the broad terrace of the hotel. "Where are we now?" said Payot to Delapine who was well acquainted with the Riviera.