in front of you. At the end
of it you will see an arbor. Expect me in ten minutes. If you do not
meet me, I swear I will cause a scandal here at once!"

He replied haughtily: "Very well, I shall be at the place you named in
ten minutes."

But Jacques Rival detained him. When he reached the alley, he saw Mme.
Walter in front of him; she cried: "Ah, here you are! Do you wish to
kill me?"

He replied calmly: "I beseech you, none of that, or I shall leave you
at once."

Throwing her arms around his neck, she exclaimed: "What have I done to
you that you should treat me so?"

He tried to push her away: "You twisted your hair around my coat
buttons the last time we met, and it caused trouble between my wife and
myself."

She shook her head: "Ah, your wife would not care. It was one of your
mistresses who made a scene."

"I have none."

"Indeed! Why do you never come to see me? Why do you refuse to dine
with me even once a week? I have no other thoughts than of you. I
suffer terribly. You cannot understand that your image, always present,
closes my throat, stifles me, and leaves me scarcely strength enough to
move my limbs in order to walk. So I remain all day in my chair
thinking of you."

He looked at her in astonishment. These were the words of a desperate
woman, capable of anything. He, however, cherished a vague project and
replied: "My dear, love is not eternal. One loves and one ceases to
love. When it lasts it becomes a drawback. I want none of it! However,
if you will be reasonable, and will receive and treat me as a friend, I
will come to see you as formerly. Can you do that?"

She murmured: "I can do anything in order to see you."

"Then it is agreed that we are to be friends, nothing more."

She gasped: "It is agreed"; offering him her lips she cried in her
despair: "One more kiss--one last kiss!"

He gently drew back. "No, we must adhere to our rules."

She turned her head and wiped away two tears, then drawing from her
bosom a package of notes tied with pink ribbon, she held it toward Du
Roy: "Here is your share of the profits in that Moroccan affair. I was
so glad to make it for you. Here, take it."

He refused: "No, I cannot accept that money."

She became excited: "Oh, you will not refuse it now! It is yours, yours
alone. If you do not take it, I will throw it in the sewer. You will
not refuse it, Georges!"

He took the package and slipped it into his pocket "We must return to
the house;