(Tome IV, continued from p. 360) — carries himself like a man about to announce something. I am ashamed to confess that my heart began to beat — it began to beat because I thought I had guessed rightly, and because for so long that person ought to have presented himself, and also because it was something new. Good evening, Madame, Mademoiselle, he says —

— Sit down, Monsieur, says my aunt. He sits down and begins to talk about the Durands, and so on; I wait, I wait, I grow impatient — but nothing; he stays a few minutes longer and leaves just as he came.

Well, I never!