in a dream. 'The red of the
flag loses its brightness and becomes yellowish because it stands
out against the blue of the sky, the complementary shade of
which--orange--blends with red--'

Claude, interested at once, was already questioning him when the servant
brought in a telegram.

'All right,' said Sandoz, 'it's from Dubuche, who apologises; he
promises to come and surprise us at about eleven o'clock.'

At this moment Henriette threw the door wide open, and personally
announced that dinner was ready. She had doffed her white apron, and
cordially shook hands, as hostess, with all of them. 'Take your seats!
take your seats!' was her cry. It was half-past seven already, the
_bouillabaisse_ could not wait. Jory, having observed that Fagerolles
had sworn to him that he would come, they would not believe it.
Fagerolles was getting ridiculous with his habit of aping the great
artist overwhelmed with work!

The dining-room into which they passed was so small that, in order to
make room for a piano, a kind of alcove had been made out of a dark
closet which had formerly served for the accommodation of crockery.
However, on grand occasions half a score of people still gathered round
the table, under the white porcelain hanging lamp, but this was only
accomplished by blocking up the sideboard, so that the servant could not
even pass to take a plate from it. However, it was the mistress of the
house who carved, while the master took his place facing her, against
the blockaded sideboard, in order to hand round whatever things might be
required.

Henriette had placed Claude on her right hand, Mahoudeau on her left,
while Gagniere and Jory were seated next to Sandoz.

'Francoise,' she called, 'give me the slices of toast. They are on the
range.'

And the girl having brought the toast, she distributed two slices to
each of them, and was beginning to ladle the _bouillabaisse_ into the
plates, when the door opened once more.

'Fagerolles at last!' she said. 'I have given your seat to Mahoudeau.
Sit down there, next to Claude.'

He apologised with an air of courtly politeness, by alleging a business
appointment. Very elegantly dressed, tightly buttoned up in clothes of
an English cut, he had the carriage of a man about town, relieved by
the retention of a touch of artistic free-and-easiness. Immediately on
sitting down he grasped his neighbour's hand, affecting great delight.

'Ah, my old Claude! I have for such a long ti