followed, each movement with eyes as keen and wary as a cat's. He drew
out a chair, walked around the table and selected another chair.

"Will you not sit down, Madame?"

"I prefer to stand, Monsieur."

"As you please. Pardon me, but I am inclined to sit down."

"Will you be brief?"

"As possible." The vicomte took in a long breath, reached a hand into
his breast and drew out a folded paper, oblong in shape.

At the sight of this madame's eyes first narrowed, then grew wide and
round.

"Begin, Monsieur," a suspicion of tremor in her tones.

"Well, then: fate or fortune has made you free; fate or fortune has
brought you into this wilderness. Here, civilization becomes less fine
in the grain; men reach forth toward objects brusquely and boldly.
Well, Madame, you know that for the past year I have loved you silently
and devotedly. . . ."

"If that is all, Monsieur . . . !" scornfully.

"Patience!" He tapped the paper with his hand. "Is there not
something about the shape of this paper, Madame, that is familiar?
Does it not recall to your mind something of vital importance?"