Gabry. Let us talk about that Fairy of yours She was very prettily
made. Do you do any modelling in wax now?"

"I have not a bit of wax," she exclaimed, wringing her hands--"no
wax at all!"

"No wax!" I cried--"in a republic of busy bees?"

She laughed.

"And, then, you see, Monsieur, my FIGURINES, as you call them, are
not in Mademoiselle Prefere's programme. But I had begun to make
a very small Saint-George for Madame de Gabry--a tiny little
Saint-George, with a golden cuirass. Is not that right, Monsieur
Bonnard--to give Saint-George a gold cuirass?"

"Quite right, Jeanne; but what became of it?"

"I am going to tell you, I kept it in my pocket because I had no
other place to put it, and--and I sat down on it by mistake."

She drew out of her pocket a little wax figure, which had been
squeezed out of all resemblance to human form, and of which the
dislocated limbs were only attached to the body by their wire
framework. At the sight of her hero thus marred, she was seized
at once with compassion and gaiety. The latter feeling obtained
the mastery, and she burst into a clear laugh, which, however,
stopped as suddenly as it had begun.

Mademoiselle Prefere stood at the parlour door, smiling.