"Edmond's not here! I thought he was working with you?"
"He was feeling tired."
"Is he asleep?"
"Yes."
"I wanted to kiss him good-night."
"No, you would only wake him. And here's your car; so go, dear. Amuse yourself."
"Oh, amuse myself!" she said. "There's not much amusement about the opera and an evening party."
"Still, it's better than keeping one's room."
There was some little constraint. It was obviously one of those ill-assorted households in which the husband, suffering in health and not caring for the pleasures of society, stays at home, while the wife seeks the enjoyments to which her age and habits entitle her.
As he said nothing more, she bent over and kissed him on the forehead. Then, once more bowing to the two visitors, she went out. A moment later they heard the sound of the motor driving away.
Hippolyte Fauville at once rose and rang the bell. Then he said:
"No one here has any idea of the danger hanging over me. I have confided in nobody, not even in Silvestre, my own man, though he has been in my service for years and is honesty itself."
The manservant entered.
"I am going to bed, Silvestre," said M. Fauville. "Get everything ready."
Silvestre opened the upper part of the great sofa, which made a comfortable bed, and laid the sheets and blankets. Next, at his master's orders, he brought
