He motioned me to a chair and sat down. He was a man of polished manner and had a pleasant voice. I guessed that in the days when he paid court to Lola, he had been handsome in his dark Norman way, and possessed considerable fascination. Evil living and sordid passions had coarsened his features, produced bagginess under the eyes and a shiftiness of glance. Idleness and an inverted habit of life were responsible for the nascent paunch and the rolls of fat at the back of his neck. He suggested the revivified corpse of a fine gentleman that had been unnaturally swollen. I had disliked him at the Cercle Africain; now I detested him heartily. The idea of Lola entering the vitiated atmosphere of his life was inexpressibly repugnant to me. Contrary to her habit, Lola sat bolt upright on the stamped-velvet suite, the palms of her hands pressing the seat on either side of her. She caught the shade of disgust that swept over my face, and gave me a quick glance that pleaded for toleration. Her eyes, though bright, were sunken, like those of a woman who has not slept. “Monsieur,” said Vauvenarde, “my wife informs me that to your disinterested friendship is due this most charming reconciliation.” “Reconciliation?” I echoed. “It was quickly effected.” “_Mon Dieu_,” he said. “I have always longed for the comforts of a home. My wife has grown tired of a migratory existence. She comes to find me. I hasten to meet her. There is nothing to keep us apart. The reconciliation was a matter of a few seconds. I wish to express my gratitude to you, and, therefore, I ask you to accept my most cordial thanks.” “It has always been a pleasure to me,” said I very frigidly, “to place my services at the disposal of Madame Brandt.” “Vauvenarde, Monsieur,” he corrected with a smile. “And is Madame Vauvenarde equally satisfied with the--reconciliation?” I asked. “I think Monsieur Vauvenarde is somewhat premature,” said Lola, with a trembling lip. “There were conditions--” “A mere question of protocol.” He waved an airy hand. “I don't know what that is,” said Lola. “There are conditions I must fix, and I thought the advice of my friend, Monsieur de Gex--” “Precisely, my dear Lola,” he interrupted. “The principle is affirmed. We are reconciled. I proceed logically. The first thing I do is to thank Monsieur de Gex--you have a French name, Monsieur, and you pronounce it English fashion, which is somewhat embarrassing--But no matter. The next thing is the protocol. We have no possibility of calling a family council, and therefore, I acceded with pleasure to the intervention of Monsieur. It is kind of him to burden himself with our unimportant affairs.”