THE AMERICAN
have it with their morning coffee?" But he was turning away when Valentin more effectually stopped him. "I should like to know whether, within a few days, you've seen your venerable friend M. Nioche."
"He was yesterday at my rooms."
"What had he to tell you?"
"Nothing particular."
"You did n't see the weapon of Virginius sticking out of his pocket?"
"What are you driving at?" Newman demanded. "I thought he seemed rather cheerful, for him."
Valentin broke into a laugh. "I'm delighted to hear of his high spirits—they make me so beautifully right and so innocently happy. For what they mean, you see, must be that his charming child is favourably placed, at last, for the real exercise of her talents, and that the pair are relieved, almost equally, from the awkwardness of a false position. And M. Nioche is rather cheerful—for him! Don't brandish your tomahawk at that rate," the young man went on; "I've not seen her nor communicated with her since that day at the Louvre. Andromeda has found another Perseus than I. My information's exact; on such matters it always is. I suppose," he wound up, "that I may now cease so elaborately to neglect her?"
Newman, struggling up out of intenser inward visions, listened as he could, and then, having listened, remained with his eyes on his friend's face. "It would do you good to fall in love. You want it badly," he at last remarked.
"Well, that's perhaps exactly what, according to
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