The Flower of the Chapdelaines

er came out of his pension francaise, opposite his office, and stood a m

Their meanness reminded him anew how definitely he had chosen not merely the simple but the solitary life. Yet now he turned toward Royal Street. But at th

more time by way of Royal I shall owe an abject apology, a

or so earlier. His frequent failure to pay it had won him, each time, a glimpse of her and an itching fear

roups of old buildings in the vieux carré. But there, to gather in all the effect, one must turn, sooner or later, and include the upper side of Conti Street

he marble halls where justice dreamt she dwelt. Up and down one of these, little traversed so early, he paced, with a question burning in his breast, which every new sigh of mortific

ound himself facing the very bl

I saw you at Conti coming down. I have another map of the old city for you.

es it show exactly where Maspe

ome to the s

er man came up, "Ah, Mr. Castan

once more well. I was looking for you. Yo

nd those windows beh

andry? Good day. No,

n at last, this evening, com

ed. So is to-morrow's. May I come the next evening after? . . . Tha