s like dust in rooms. The
faint noise made by a door caused Duroy to turn his head, and he saw in
a glass a stout lady approaching. As soon as she made her appearance in
the boudoir one of the other visitors rose, shook hands and left, and
the young fellow followed her black back glittering with jet through the
drawing-rooms with his eyes. When the agitation due to this change had
subsided they spoke without transition of the Morocco question and the
war in the East and also of the difficulties of England in South Africa.
These ladies discussed these matters from memory, as if they had been
reciting passages from a fashionable play, frequently rehearsed.

A fresh arrival took place, that of a little curly-headed blonde, which
brought about the departure of a tall, thin lady of middle age. They now
spoke of the chance Monsieur Linet had of getting into the
Academie-Francaise. The new-comer formerly believed that he would be
beaten by Monsieur Cabanon-Lebas, the author of the fine dramatic
adaption of Don Quixote in verse.

"You know it is to be played at the Odeon next winter?"

"Really, I shall certainly go and see such a very excellent literary
effort."

Madame Walter answered gracefully with calm indifference, without ever
hesitating as to what she should say, her mind being always made up
beforehand. But she saw that night was coming on, and rang for the
lamps, while listening to the conversation that trickled on like a
stream of honey, and thinking that she had forgotten to call on the
stationer about the invitation cards for her next dinner. She was a
little too stout, though still beautiful, at the dangerous age when the
general break-up is at hand. She preserved herself by dint of care,
hygienic precautions, and salves for the skin. She seemed discreet in
all matters; moderate and reasonable; one of those women whose mind is
correctly laid out like a French garden. One walks through it with
surprise, but experiencing a certain charm. She had keen, discreet, and
sound sense, that stood her instead of fancy, generosity, and affection,
together with a calm kindness for everybody and everything.

She noted that Duroy had not said anything, that he had not been spoken
to, and that he seemed slightly ill at ease; and as the ladies had not
yet quitted the Academy, that favorite subject always occupying them
some time, she said: "And you who should be better informed than any
one, Monsieur Duroy, who is your favorit