For a moment they were silent again, studying each other. Then madame de Val Fleury said breathlessly: "I want to ask you something. Come home with me--get into my car. Don't abuse me any more, don't rail at me--I'm an old woman and I can't bear it." As the car bore them away, she explained herself, weeping. "I know it seems strange to you, my not being satisfied--I know I've got the things you want so much. But _you_ retain the capacity to enjoy those things, and _I don't_. If I could have had your youth as well, it would have been different. The old are happiest in their old ways, with their old friends. We both made an error. If--do you think, if we were to go there again----?" Berthe Cheron turned to her wildly. "If we were to go there again?" she gasped. "If we were to go there again--in humbleness of spirit this time, in contrition, beseeching pardon for our error--do you think it might be undone?" "Oh, let us try, let us try!" cried the girl, seizing her hand. And she, too, wept. "But I could not refund more than about half the money," she faltered, dismayed. "I would not ask you to refund a son of it," said madame de Val Fleury. "You should keep it as a marriage portion." In the flat they talked till late, mingling their tears and comforting each other. Nearly four months had to pass before the coming of the date they craved, but on the evening of the 6th of September the two victims of their own folly reached St. Pierre des Champs once more. And in the eerie market-place, the lanterns swayed amid the flitting figures, and again they heard the shrill clamour of the crone, shuffling among the naked stalls. "Fine faces cheap!" And the long, long night grew cold, and the penitents' teeth chattered; and as the elder knelt and prayed, as never had she prayed before, the pebbles bit into her knees. * * * * * A few days afterwards, monsieur Septfous, in the private office of the bank, saw the door open to admit a caller that surprised him. "My dear madame de Val Fleury," he exclaimed, "how delighted I am to greet you! Dare I hope you have returned to Paris for good?" "For good, my friend--the country got on my nerves. At my time of life not every change is desirable," replied the old lady, beaming. And subsequently one man said to another: "Funny thing; at Bullier last night I saw a girl just like madame de Beaulieu, who vanished to New York or somewhere--excepting that she had her arms round a chap's neck and looked so happy." "Lucky chap, by Jove! Know him?" "A fellow called Guy Verne." XII IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 1918 DEAR NELLY, I was in the theatre last night, just to have a look at you again, and I saw you when you came out of the stage door. Saw the toff and the taxi waiting to take you to supper. Wonder if you can call my name to mind any more? Alf. Alf that was your sweetheart when you were in the fancy department at Skinner and Mopham's. Loved you true, I did.