avor to her words: "And
you have a charming title, 'Recollections of a Chasseur d'Afrique.' Is
it not so, Monsieur Norbert?"

The old poet, who had worn renown late in life, feared and hated
new-comers. He replied dryly: "Yes, excellent, provided that the keynote
be followed, for that is the great difficulty; the exact note, what in
music is called the pitch."

Madame Forestier cast on Duroy a smiling and protective glance, the
glance of a connoisseur, which seemed to say: "Yes, you will get on."
Madame de Marelle had turned towards him several times, and the diamond
in her ear quivered incessantly as though the drop of water was about to
fall.

The little girl remained quiet and serious, her head bent over her
plate.

But the servant passed round the table, filling the blue glasses with
Johannisberg, and Forestier proposed a toast, drinking with a bow to
Monsieur Walter: "Prosperity to the _Vie Francaise_."

Everyone bowed towards the proprietor, who smiled, and Duroy,
intoxicated with success, emptied his glass at a draught. He would have
emptied a whole barrel after the same fashion; it seemed to him that he
could have eaten a bullock or strangled a lion. He felt a superhuman
strength in his limbs, unconquerable resolution and unbounded hope in
his mind. He was now at home among these people; he had just taken his
position, won his place. His glance rested on their faces with a
new-born assurance, and he ventured for the first time to address his
neighbor. "You have the prettiest earrings I have ever seen, Madame."

She turned towards him with a smile. "It was an idea of my own to have
the diamonds hung like that, just at the end of a thread. They really
look like dew-drops, do they not?"

He murmured, ashamed of his own daring, and afraid of making a fool of
himself:

"It is charming; but the ear, too, helps to set it off."

She thanked him with a look, one of those woman's looks that go straight
to the heart. And as he turned his head he again met Madame Forestier's
eye, always kindly, but now he thought sparkling with a livelier mirth,
an archness, an encouragement.

All the men were now talking at once with gesticulations and raised
voices. They were discussing the great project of the metropolitan
railway. The subject was not exhausted till dessert was finished,
everyone having a deal to say about the slowness of the methods of
communication in Paris, the inconvenience of the tramway, the delays of