if she had quite forgiven him,
and if they were good friends again. "Oh, I had forgotten all about
it!" But, a moment after, she was grave and quiet--altogether unlike
herself.

"Are you not enjoying yourself, Ephie?"

"No, I'm not. I think it's stupid. And they're all so fat."

This referred to the singers, and was indisputable; Maurice could only
agree with her, and try to rally her. Meanwhile, he continued
surreptitiously to scour the hall, with an evergrowing sense of
disappointment.

Then, suddenly, among those who were passing in the opposite direction,
he saw Louise. In a flash he understood why he had not been able to
find her in the row of seats: he had looked for her in a black dress,
and she was all in white, with heavy white lace at her neck. Her
companion was an Englishman called Eggis, of whom it was rumoured that
he had found it advisable abruptly to leave his native land: here, he
made a precarious living by journalism, and by doing odd jobs for the
consulate. In spite of his shabby clothes, this man, prematurely bald,
with dissipated features, had polished manners and an air of
refinement; and, thoroughly enjoying his position, he was talking to
his companion with vivacity. It was plain that Louise was only half
listening to him; with a faint, absent smile on her lips, she, too,
restlessly scanned the crowd.

They all caught sight of Schilsky at the same moment, and Maurice, on
whom nothing was lost, saw as well the quick look that passed between
Louise and him, and its immediate effect: Louise flashed into a smile,
and was full of gracious attentiveness to the little man at her side.

Schilsky leant against the wall, with his hands in his pockets, his
conspicuous head well back. On entering the FOYER, he had been pounced
on by Miss Jensen. The latter, showily dressed in a large-striped
stuff, had in tow a fellow-singer about half her own size, whom she was
rarely to be seen without; but, on this occasion, the wan little
American stood disconsolately apart, for Miss Jensen was paying no
attention to him. In common with the rest of her sex, she had a
weakness for Schilsky; and besides, on this evening, she needed
specially receptive ears, for she had been studying the role of
Sieglinde, and was full of criticisms and objections. As Ephie and
Maurice passed them, she nodded to the latter and said: "Good evening,
neighbour!" while Schilsky, seizing the chance, broke away, without
troubling to excus