ir overcoats and canes
into the hands of four servants in knee-breeches. A warm odor, as of
a festival assembly, filled the air, an odor of flowers, perfumes,
and women; and a composed and continuous murmur came from the
adjoining rooms, which were filled with people.

A kind of master of ceremonies, tall, erect, wide of girth, serious,
his face framed in white whiskers, approached the newcomers, asking
with a short and haughty bow: "Whom shall I announce?"

"Monsieur Saval," Servigny replied.

Then with a loud voice, the man opening the door cried out to the
crowd of guests:

"Monsieur the Duke de Servigny."

"Monsieur the Baron Saval."

The first drawing-room was filled with women. The first thing which
attracted attention was the display of bare shoulders, above a flood
of brilliant gowns.

The mistress of the house who stood talking with three friends,
turned and came forward with a majestic step, with grace in her mien
and a smile on her lips. Her forehead was narrow and very low, and
was covered with a mass of glossy black hair, encroaching a little
upon the temples.

She was tall, a trifle too large, a little too stout, over ripe, but
very pretty, with a heavy, warm, potent beauty. Beneath that mass of
hair, full of dreams and smiles, rendering her mysteriously
captivating, were enormous black eyes. Her nose was a little narrow,
her mouth large and infinitely seductive, made to speak and to
conquer.

Her greatest charm was in her voice. It came from that mouth as
water from a spring, so natural, so light, so well modulated, so
clear, that there was a physical pleasure in listening to it. It was
a joy for the ear to hear the flexible words flow with the grace of
a babbling brook, and it was a joy for the eyes to see those pretty
lips, a trifle too red, open as the words rippled forth.

She gave one hand to Servigny, who kissed it, and dropping her fan
on its little gold chain, she gave the other to Saval, saying to
him: "You are welcome, Baron, all the Duke's friends are at home
here."

Then she fixed her brilliant eyes upon the Colossus who had just
been introduced to her. She had just the slightest down on her upper
lip, a suspicion of a mustache, which seemed darker when she spoke.
There was a pleasant odor about her, pervading, intoxicating, some
perfume of America or of the Indies. Other people came in,
marquesses, counts or princes. She said to Servigny, with the
graciousness of a mother: "Y