earned; but just at present his
loathing for these fine garments was beyond all words.

The tailor fain would have had the masquerade continue longer, for, as
he frankly stated, "The Marquis Suit" was having a tremendous sale. But
Jaune was deaf not only to the tailor's blandishments, but to his
offers of substantial cash. "Not for the millions would I be in this
part of the Marquis for one day yet more," he said firmly. And he
added, "I trust to you in honor, sare, that not never shall my name be
spoken in this affair."

"Couldn't speak it if I wanted to, my dear boy. It's a mystery to me
how you're able to say it yourself! Well, I'd like you to run the
'Marquis' for another week; but if you won't, you won't, I suppose, so
there's an end of it. I'm sorry you haven't enjoyed it. I have. It's
been as good a thing as I ever got hold of. Now give me your address
and I'll have your clothes sent to you. Don't you want some more? I
don't mind letting you have a regular outfit if you want it. One good
turn, you know--and you've done me a good turn, and that's a fact."

But Jaune declined this liberal offer, and declined also to leave his
address, which would have involved a revelation of his name. It was a
comfort to him to know that his name was safe--a great comfort. So the
garments of the forever departed Marquis were put up in a big bundle,
and Jaune journeyed homeward to his studio in Greenwich--bearing his
sheaves with him--in a Bleecker Street car.

"Well, you are a cheeky beggar, d'Antimoine," said Vandyke Brown,
cheerfully, the next morning, as he came into Jaune's studio with a
newspaper in his hand. "So you are the Marquis who has been setting the
town wild for the last week, eh? And whom did you bet with? And what
started you in such a crazy performance, anyway? Tell me all about it.
It's as funny--Good heavens! d'Antimoine, what's the matter? Are you
ill?" For Jaune had grown deathly pale and was gasping.

"I do not know of what it is that you talk," he answered, with a great
effort.

"Oh, come now, that's too thin, you know. Why, here's a whole column
about it, telling how you made a bet with somebody that you could set
all the town to talking about you, and yet do it all in such a clever
disguise that nobody would know who you really were, not even your most
intimate friends. And I should say that you had won handsomely. Why,
I've seen you on Broadway a dozen times myself this last week, and I
never had t