still here," thought she, "I am not afraid that he will make a scene,
but all his pleasure will be spoiled." There was a tinge of coldness in
her welcome to M. Langis, of which he was sensible.

"I am in the way," he said, making a movement to retire.

She kept him, and altered her tone: "You are never in the way, Camille.
Sit there."

He seated himself, and talked of the races at Chantilly, that he had
attended the day before.

She listened to him, bowed her head in sign of approval; but she heard
his voice through a mist that veiled her senses. She lifted her hand to
brush away a wasp that annoyed her by its buzzing. The lace of her cuff,
in falling back, left her wrist exposed.

"What a curious bracelet you have!" said M. Langis.

"Have you not seen it before?" she replied. "It is some time since----"

She interrupted herself, a sudden idea occurring to her. She looked at
her wrist. This bracelet from which she never was parted--this bracelet
that Count Larinski had given to her--this bracelet that he loved
because it had belonged to his mother, and that the late Countess
Larinski had worn as long as she lived--resembled none other; but Mlle.
Moriaz observed that it had a strong resemblance to the Persian
bracelet that the Princess Gulof had described to her, and which she
had exchanged for Samuel Brohl. The three gold plates, the grotesque
animals, the filigree network--nothing was wanting. She took it from
her arm and handed it to M. Langis, saying to him: "There is, it seems,
something written on the interior of one of these plates; but you must
know the secret to be able to open it. Can you guess secrets?"

He carefully examined the bracelet. "Two of these plates," said he,
"are solid, and of heavy gold; the third is hollow, and might serve as a
case. I see a little hinge that is almost invisible; but I seek in vain
for the secret--I cannot find it."

"Is the hinge strong?"

"Not very, and the lid easily could be forced open."

"That is what I want you to do," she rejoined.

"What are you thinking of? I would not spoil a trinket that you value."

She replied: "I have made the acquaintance of a Russian princess who has
a mania for physiology and dissection. I have caught the disease, and I
want to begin to dissect. I am fond of this trinket, but I want to know
what is inside. Do as I tell you," she continued. "You will find in the
laboratory the necessary instruments. Go; the key is in the door."