She had half turned towards him and looked at him with one of her most fervent smiles. Bottomless depths yawned in her eyes. Her whole face trembled in coquettish sauciness. M. Raindal thought that a flame was piercing his temples. He was carried away by delirium. With a shy briskness he seized Mme. Chambannes' hand: and, in a frantic kiss, his lips pressed upon it the avowal of love which they had not dared to utter. "Oh! be careful!" Mme. Chambannes said, as she moved away from him. "Of what?" the master asked awkwardly. His forehead was wet with the perspiration of anguish. To give himself countenance he tried to laugh but he repressed it at once, perplexed and disconcerted by the young woman's expression. She looked severe yet showed no anger. She expressed modest alarm rather than resentment. Her eyes remained dark in spite of a sarcastic twinkle which contracted the corners. What was she going to do? Would she be indignant, would she forgive or smile? She rose and in a calm voice in which faintly trembled an ironical echo, said: "Good-by, dear master. I must go home.... Will you see me to a cab, please?" M. Raindal gave her hand an imperceptible pressure and replied, while his eyes wandered towards the statues on the colonnade. "With pleasure, dear madame." She passed first through the narrow doorway of the gate. M. Raindal followed her, absentmindedly playing with his gloves. As soon as she was seated and the wheels began to move, he recovered enough daring to glance at her. She looked her usual self once more; her eyes were again tender and challenging. "By the way, we meet to-night!" said she. "Do not forget, dear master, box No. 40...." As soon as she was out of the Carrousel she was unable to remain serious any longer. She smiled so openly and intensely that a street urchin imitated her and cried out: "Bon dieu, how funny it is!..." Yes, surely, it was funny. Père Raindal in love! Who could have thought it possible? What a kiss he had given her, a kiss like a blow, it was so brutal and bashful at the same time! Poor man!... What a pity that she had broken away from that nasty Germaine! How they would have made merry together over this little story. The memory of her perfidious friend caused Mme. Chambannes' face to darken again. She lost her pleasant mood until after lunch, when she told her aunt Panhias of her interview. "Be careful, child!" that voluminous lady urged. "At that age, it is sometimes very dangerous!" "For whom?" asked Zozé. "Not for you, of course!" Mme. Chambannes expelled a cloud of smoke from her cigarette: "Have no fear. I shall be careful.... Who knows? Perhaps I was mistaken!" "Perhaps!" her aunt replied skeptically.