curtain, he walked towards the chimney where the light was
strong, and began his examination.

"It is very good," he said; "very curious."

"Only a photograph can have this documentary value."

To compare this document with the reality, Saniel approached the chimney
more closely, above which was a mirror. When his feet touched the
marble hearth he stopped, looking alternately at the plate which he held
carefully in his hands, and at his face reflected in the glass. Suddenly
he made an exclamation; he let fall the plate, which, falling flat on
the marble, broke into little pieces that flew here and there.

"How awkward I am!"

He showed a vexation that should not leave the smallest doubt in the
photographer's mind as to its truth.

"You must get one of the proofs that you have given away," his friend
said, "for I have not a single one left."

"I will try and find one."

What he did try to find on leaving was whether or no he had succeeded
in rendering himself unrecognizable, for he could not trust to
this experience, weakened by the fact that this old friend was a
photographer. With him it was a matter of business to note the typical
traits that distinguish one face from another, and in a long practice he
had acquired an accuracy Madame Dammauville could not possess.

Among the persons he knew, it seemed to him that the one in the best
condition to give certainty to the proof was Madame Cormier. He knew at
this hour she would be alone, and as she had not been, assuredly, warned
by her daughter that he intended to shave, the experiment would be
presented in a way to give a result as exact as possible.

In answer to his ring Madame Cormier opened the door, and he saluted her
without being recognized; but as the hall was dark this was not of great
significance. His hat in his hand, he followed her into the dining-room
without speaking, in order that his voice should not betray him.

Then, after she had looked at him a moment, with uneasy surprise at
first, she began to smile.

"It is Doctor Saniel!" she cried. "Mon Dieu! How stupid of me not to
recognize you; it changes you so much to be shaved! Pardon me."

"It is because I am shaved that I come to ask a favor."

"Of us, my dear sir? Ah! Speak quickly; we should be so happy to prove
our gratitude."

"I would ask Mademoiselle Phillis to give me, if she has it, a
photograph that I gave her about a year ago."

As Phillis wished the liberty to expose this ph