And to whom did M. Raindal owe it all? Who had suggested to him the subject of this book three years ago? Who had thought of a _Life of Cleopatra_, written from the national Egyptian point of view, and deriving its inspiration from indigenous documents and the popular sentiments of the period? And then who had helped him to the very end, faithfully seconded him in the heavy task? Who had classified the material, copied the papyri, transcribed the inscriptions, and read the proofs over and over, one by one, with the exception of the Latin notes? Who had.... "But, I say, where are you leading me now!" he exclaimed, abandoning the tone of friendly custody which he had assumed in reciting his eulogy of her. Thérèse smiled tenderly. "There you are, father; that's what you get for exaggerating.... One forgets everything, one doesn't know where one is any more.... I am leading you to the _Bon Marché_, where I am going to buy gloves for to-night...." "Ah, yes, the dance!" M. Raindal sighed, as if he had already received the customary blow of a refusal. Then he went on: "Well, no! I must leave you.... I am going to climb up to your Uncle Cyprien's; I want to inquire how his rheumatism is to-day and whether he is coming to dine with us to-night...." Before the Church of St. Germain-des-Prés, they stopped in the midst of the melancholy crowd standing about the street-car office and shook hands firmly, like two comrades. "Au revoir, dear, I'll see you a little later." "Au revoir, father." Thérèse crossed the street, while M. Raindal gathered up his leather case, which was slipping from his elbow, and slowly and with deliberation, as if weighed down by his thoughts, ventured into the rue Bonaparte. CHAPTER II M. Cyprien Raindal lived on the sixth floor of an old house that stood at the corner of the rue Vavin and the rue d'Assas, in an apartment made up of two large rooms, the windows of which gave him a limitless vista over the yoke-elm trees of the Luxemburg. He was a thick-set, sanguine man, about forty-five years old, and wore his hair close-cropped, like soldiers in the African colonies. By temperament he was irritable and rebellious. As early as 1860 his elder brother had secured him a place in the Ministry of Industry, from which, however, had it not been for the same powerful intervention of Eusèbe Raindal, he would several times have been dismissed.