leep, and bitter were my thoughts, my revilings against a
cruel fate that had condemned me--a man with so sensitive a heart and
so generous a nature--to the sorrows of perpetual solitude.

That, Sir, was my mood, when on a never-to-be-forgotten afternoon
toward the end of April, I sat mooning disconsolately in my private
room and a timid rat-tat at the outer door of the apartment roused
Theodore from his brutish slumbers. I heard him shuffling up to the
door, and I hurriedly put my necktie straight and smoothed my hair,
which had become disordered despite the fact that I had only indulged
in a very abstemious dejeuner.

When I said that the knock at my door was in the nature of a timid
rat-rat I did not perhaps describe it quite accurately. It was timid,
if you will understand me, and yet bold, as coming from one who might
hesitate to enter and nevertheless feels assured of welcome. Obviously
a client, I thought.

Effectively, Sir, the next moment my eyes were gladdened by the sight
of a lovely woman, beautifully dressed, young, charming, smiling but
to hide her anxiety, trustful, and certainly wealthy.

The moment she stepped into the room I knew that she was wealthy;
there was an air of assurance about her which only those are able to
assume who are not pestered with creditors. She wore two beautiful
diamond rings upon her hands outside her perfectly fitting glove, and
her bonnet was adorned with flowers so exquisitely fashioned that a
butterfly would have been deceived and would have perched on it with
delight.

Her shoes were of the finest kid, shiny at the toes like tiny mirrors,
whilst her dainty ankles were framed in the filmy lace frills of her
pantalets.

Within the wide brim of her bonnet her exquisite face appeared like a
rosebud nestling in a basket. She smiled when I rose to greet her,
gave me a look that sent my susceptible heart a-flutter and caused me
to wish that I had not taken that bottle-green coat of mine to the
Mont de Piete only last week. I offered her a seat, which she took,
arranging her skirts about her with inimitable grace.

"One moment," I added, as soon as she was seated, "and I am entirely
at your service."

I took up pen and paper--an unfinished letter which I always keep
handy for the purpose--and wrote rapidly. It always looks well for a
lawyer or an _agent confidentiel_ to keep a client waiting for a moment
or two while he attends to the enormous pressure of correspondence