me
Sennier imperturbably. "_Mon Dieu!_ What dust!"

They had emerged into the road, and were enveloped in a cloud sent up by
a passing motor.

"If it doesn't rain, or they don't water the roads, I shall run away to
Constantine," observed Mrs. Shiffney. "There'll be no dust in
Constantine at this time of year."

CHAPTER XXI

In the evening of the following day Charmian and Susan Fleet had just
sat down to dinner, and Pierre was about to lift the lid off the soup
tureen, when there was a ring at the front door bell.

"What can that be?" said Charmian.

She looked at Susan.

"Susan, I feel as if it were somebody, or something important."

Pierre raised the lid with a pathetic gesture, and went out carrying it
high in his left hand.

"I wonder what it is?" said Charmian.

All day they had not seen Mrs. Shiffney or her party. They had passed
the hours alone in the garden, talking, working, reading, but chiefly
discussing Charmian's affairs. And calm had flowed upon Charmian, had
enfolded her almost against her will. At the end of the day she had
said:

"Susan, you do me more good than anyone I know. I don't understand how
it is, but you seem to purify me almost, as a breeze from the sea--when
it's calm--purifies a room if you open the window to it."

But now, as she waited for Pierre's return, she felt strung up and
excited.

"If it should be Claude come back!" she said.

"Would he ring?" asked Susan.

"No. But he might!"

At this moment a loud murmur of talk was audible in the hall, and then a
voice exclaiming:

"_Ca ne fait rien! Ca ne fait rien! Laissez moi passer, mon bon!_"

"Surely it's Monsieur Sennier!" exclaimed Charmian.

As she spoke, the door opened and the composer entered, pushing past
Pierre, whose thin face wore an outraged look.

"_Me voici!_" he exclaimed. "Deserted, abandoned, I come to you. How
can I eat alone in a hotel? It is impossible! I tried. I sat down. They
brought me caviare, _potage_. I looked, raised my fork, my spoon.
Impossible! Will you save me from myself? See, I am in my smoking! I
shall not disgrace you."

"Of course! Pierre, please lay another place. But who has abandoned
you?"

"Everyone--Henriette, Adelaide, even the faithful Max. They would have
taken me, but I refused to go."

"Where to?"

"Batna, Biskra, _que sais-je_? Adelaide is restless as an enraged cat!"

He sat down, and began greedily to eat his soup.

"Ah, this is good! Your cook