am in his eye.

"Do you mean to say, Monsieur, that I play for more than recreation?"

"How dare I say anything, Monsieur. But Madame is prejudiced against
the Cercle Africain. For a bachelor there is little to be said against
it--but for a married man--you seize the point?" said I.

"_Bien_, Monsieur," he said, swallowing his wrath. "And Article 3?"

"Since you have left the army--would it not be better to engage in
some profession--unless your private fortune dispenses you from the
necessity."

He said nothing but: "Article 4?"

"It would give Madame comfort to live out of Algiers."

"_Moi aussi_," he replied rather unexpectedly. "We have the whole of
France to choose from."

"Would not Madame be happier if she lived out of France, also? She has
always longed for a social position."

"_Eh, bien_? I can give her one in France."

"Are you quite sure?" I asked, looking him in the eyes.

"Monsieur," said he, rising and giving his moustache a swashbuckler
twist upward, "what are you daring to insinuate?"

I leaned back in my chair and fingered the waxed ends of mine.

"Nothing, Monsieur; I ask a simple question, which you surely can have
no difficulty in answering."

"Your questions are the height of indiscretion," he cried angrily.

"In that case, before we carry this interview further, the Family
Council and Madame would do well to have a private consultation."

"Monsieur," he cried, completely losing his temper. "I forbid you to use
that tone to me. You are making a mock of me. You are insulting me. I
bore with you long enough to see how much further your insolence would
dare to go. I'm not to have a hand in the administration of my wife's
money? I'm to forsake a plentiful means of livelihood? I'm to become a
commercial traveller? I'm to expatriate myself? I'm to explain, too,
the reasons why I left the army? I would not condescend. Least of all to
you."

"May I ask why, Monsieur?"

"_Tonnerre de Dieu_!" He stamped his foot. "Do you take me for a fool?
Here I am--I came at my wife's request, ready to take her back as
my wife, ready to condone everything--yes, Monsieur, as a man of the
world--you think I have no eyes, no understanding--ready to take her off
your hands--"

I leaped to my feet.

"Monsieur!" I thundered.

Lola gave a cry and rushed forward. I pushed her aside, and glared at
him. I was in a furious rage. We glared at each other eye to eye. I
pointed to the door.

"_Monsieur, sort