The servant had retired, and he was all by himself in this large room, with the subdued twilight all through it, and the flicker of the flames on the ceiling. He went to the fire more from habit than anything else, and suddenly came on a big armchair, drawn up close to the side, in which a woman was sitting. ‘Ah! the sleeping beauty,’ said Vandeloup, carelessly; ‘in these cases the proper thing to do in order to wake the lady is to kiss her.’ He was, without doubt, an extremely audacious young man, and though he did not know who the young lady was, would certainly have put his design into execution, had not the white figure suddenly rose and confronted him. The light from the fire was fair on her face, and with a sudden start Vandeloup saw before him the girl he had ruined and deserted. ‘Bebe?’ he gasped, recoiling a step. ‘Yes!’ said Kitty, in an agitated tone, ‘your mistress and your victim.’ ‘Bah!’ said Gaston, coolly, having recovered from the first shock of surprise. ‘That style suits Sarah Bernhardt, not you, my dear. The first act of this comedy is excellent, but it is necessary the characters should know one another in order to finish the play.’ ‘Ah!’ said Kitty, with a bitter smile, ‘do I not know you too well, as the man who promised me marriage and then broke his word? You forgot all your vows to me.’ ‘My dear child,’ replied Gaston leisurely, leaning up against the mantelpiece, ‘if you had read Balzac you would discover that he says, “Life would be intolerable without a certain amount of forgetting.” I must say,’ smiling, ‘I agree with the novelist.’ Kitty looked at him as he stood there cool and complacent, and threw herself back into the chair angrily. ‘Just the same,’ she muttered restlessly, ‘just the same.’ ‘Of course,’ replied Vandeloup, raising his eyebrows in surprise. ‘You have only been away from me six weeks, and it takes longer than that to alter any one. By the way,’ he went on smoothly, ‘how have you been all this time? I have no doubt your tour has been as adventurous as that of Gil Bias.’ ‘No, it has not,’ replied Kitty, clenching her hands. ‘You never cared what became of me, and had not Mr Wopples met me in the street on that fearful night, God knows where I would have been now.’ ‘I can tell you,’ said Gaston, coolly, taking a seat. ‘With me. You would have soon got tired of the poverty of the streets, and come back to your cage.’ ‘My cage, indeed!’ she echoed, bitterly, tapping the ground with her foot. ‘Yes, a cage, though it was a gilded one.’ ‘How Biblical you are getting,’ said the young man, ironically; ‘but kindly stop speaking in parables, and tell me what position we are to occupy to each other. As formerly?’ ‘My God, no!’ she flashed out suddenly. ‘So much the better,’ he answered, bowing. ‘We will obliterate the last year from our memories, and I will meet you to-night for the first time since you left Ballarat. Of course,’ he went on, rather anxiously, ‘you have told Madame nothing?’