lemonade up straws--a delightful
caprice of Madame Piriac's, well suited to catch Audrey's taste--the door
opened softly, and a tall, very dark, bearded man, appreciably older than
Madame Piriac, entered with a kind of soft energy, and Mr. Gilman followed
him.

"Ah! My friend!" murmured Madame Piriac. "You give me pleasure. This is
Madame Moncreiff, of whom I have spoken to you. Madame--my husband. We have
just come from the Foas."

Monsieur Piriac bent over Audrey's hand, and smiled with vivacity, and they
talked a little of the evening, carelessly, as though time existed not. And
then Monsieur Piriac said to his wife:

"Dear friend. I have to work with this old Gilman. We shall therefore ask
you to excuse us. Till to-morrow, then. Good night."

"Good night, my friend. Do not do harm to yourself. Good night, my oncle."

Monsieur Piriac saluted with formality but with sincerity.

"Oh!" thought Audrey, as the men went away. "I should want to marry exactly
him if I did want to marry. He doesn't interfere; he isn't curious; he
doesn't want to know. He leaves her alone. She leaves him alone. How clever
they are!"

"My husband is now chief of the Cabinet of the Foreign Minister," said
Madame Piriac with modest pride. "They kill themselves, you know, in that
office--especially in these times. But I watch. And I tell Monsieur Gilman
to watch.... How nice you are when you sit in a chair like that! Only
Englishwomen know how to use an easy chair.... To say nothing of the
frock."

"Madame Piriac," Audrey brusquely demanded with an expression of ingenuous
curiosity. "Why did you bring me here?" It was the cry of an animal at once
rash and rather desperate, determined to unmask all the secret dangers that
might be threatening.

"I much desired to see you," Madame Piriac answered very smoothly, "in
order to apologise to you for my indiscreet question on the night when we
first met. Your fairy tale about your late husband was a very proper reply
to the attitude of Madame Rosamund--as you all call her. It was very
clever--so clever that I myself did not appreciate it until after I had
spoken. Ever since that moment I have wanted to explain, to know you more.
Also your pretence of going to sleep in the automobile showed what in a
woman I call distinguished talent."

"But, Madame, I assure you that I really was asleep."

"So much the better. The fact proves that your instinct for the right thing
is quite exceptional. It is