a, and Monsieur Musa bowed low to
Monsieur Foa.

"Monsieur!"

"Monsieur!"

"Monsieur, your accident I hope...."

And so on.

Cloak, overcoat, hat, stick--everything except the violin case--were thrown
pell-mell on to a piece of furniture in the entrance-hall. Monsieur Foa,
instead of being in evening dress, was in exactly the same clothes as he
had worn at his first meeting with Audrey.

Madame Foa appeared in the doorway. She was a slim blonde Italian of pure
descent, whereas only the paternal grandfather of Monsieur Foa had been
Italian. Madame Foa, who had called on Audrey at the Danube, exhibited the
same symptoms of pleasure as her husband.

"But your friend? But your friend?" cried she.

Audrey, being led gradually into the drawing-room, explained that Miss
Ingate had been prevented at the last moment, etc., etc.

The distinction of Madame Foa's simple dress had reassured Audrey to a
certain extent, but the size of the drawing-room disconcerted her again.
She had understood that the house of the Foas was the real esoteric centre
of musical Paris, and she had prepared herself for vast and luxurious
salons, footmen, fountains of wine, rare flowers, dandies, and the divine
shoulders of operatic sopranos who combined wit with the most seductive
charm. The drawing-room of the Foas was not as large as her own
drawing-room at the Danube. Still it was full, and double doors leading to
an unseen dining-room at right angles to its length produced an illusion of
space. Some of the men and some of the women were elegant, and even very
elegant; others were not. Audrey instantly with her expert eye saw that the
pictures on the walls were of the last correctness, and a few by
illustrious painters. Here and there she could see scrawled on them "a mon
ami, Andre Foa." Such phenomena were balm. Everybody in the room was
presented to her, and with the greatest particularity, and the host and
hostess gazed on her as on an idol, a jewel, an exquisite and startling
discovery. Musa found two men he knew. The conversation was resumed with
energy.

"And now," said Madame Foa in English, sitting down intimately beside
Audrey, with a loving gesture, "We will have a little talk, you and I. I
find our friend Madame Piriac met you last year."

"Ah! Yes," murmured Audrey, fatally struck, but admirably dissembling, for
she was determined to achieve the evening successfully. "Madame Piriac,
will she come to-night?"

"I fear not,"