clad in a suit of flowered
pyjamas, smoking Turkish cigarettes. At first he dreamt of receiving her
with long kisses, with hitherto unknown caresses. A quarter of an hour
having passed, he meditated serious and affectionate reproaches, then
after an hour of disappointed waiting he vowed he would meet her with
cold disdain.

At length she appeared, fresh and fragrant.

"It was scarcely worth while coming," he said bitterly, as she laid her
muff and her little bag on the table and untied her veil before the
wardrobe mirror.

Never, she told her beloved, had she had such trouble to get away. She
was full of excuses, which he obstinately rejected. But no sooner had
she the good sense to hold her tongue than he ceased his reproaches, and
then nothing detracted from the longing with which she inspired him.

The curtains were drawn, the room was bathed in warm shadows lit by the
dancing gleams of the fire. The mirrors in the wardrobe and on the
chimney-piece shone with mysterious lights. Gilberte, leaning on her
elbow, head on hand, was lost in thought. A little jeweller, a
trustworthy and intelligent man, had shown her a wonderfully pretty
pearl and sapphire bracelet; it was worth a great deal, and was to be
had for a mere nothing. He had got it from a _cocotte_ down on her luck,
who was in a hurry to dispose of it. It was a rare chance; it would be a
huge pity to let it slip.

"Would you like to see it, darling? I will ask the little man to let me
have it to show you."

Maurice did not actually decline the proposal. But it was clear that he
took no interest in the wonderful bracelet. "When small jewellers come
across a great bargain, they keep it to themselves, and do not allow
their customers to profit by it. Moreover, jewellery means nothing just
now. Well-bred women have given up wearing it. Everyone goes in for
sport, and jewellery does not go with sport."

Maurice spoke thus, contrary to truth, because having given his mistress
a fur coat, he was in no hurry to give her anything more. He was not
stingy, but he was careful with his money. His people did not give him a
very large allowance, and his debts grew bigger every day. By satisfying
the wishes of his inamorata too promptly he feared to arouse others
still more pressing. The bargain seemed less wonderful to him than to
Gilberte; besides, he liked to take the initiative in choosing his
gifts. Above all, he thought that if he gave her too many presents he
w