There　was　a　movement　in　the　drawing…room；　a　more　violent　swaying　of　the　crowd　near　the　door；　and　conversation　ceased　for　a　moment。　Paul　de　Gery　breathed。　What　he　had　just　heard　had　oppressed　his　heart。　He　felt　himself　reached；　soiled；　by　this　mud　flung　in　handfuls　over　the　ideal　which　in　his　own　mind　he　had　formed　of　that　splendid　adolescence；　matured　by　the　sun　of　Art　to　so　penetrating　a　charm。　He　moved　away　a　little；　changed　his　place。　He　feared　to　hear　again　some　whispered　infamy。　Mme。　Jenkins's　voice　did　him　good；　a　voice　that　was　famous　in　the　drawing…rooms　of　Paris　and　that　in　spite　of　all　its　magnificence　had　nothing　theatrical　about　it；　but　seemed　an　emotional　utterance　vibrating　over　unstudied　sonorities。　The　singer；　a　woman　of　forty　or　forty…five；　had　splendid　ash…blond　hair；　delicate；　rather　nerveless　features；　a　striking　expression　of　kindness。　Still　good…looking；　she　was　dressed　in　the　costly　taste　of　a　woman　who　has　not　given　up　the　thought　of　pleasing。　Indeed；　she　was　far　from　having　given　it　up。　Married　a　dozen　years　ago；　for　a　second　time；　to　the　doctor；　they　seemed　still　to　be　at　the　first　months　of　their　dual　happiness。　While　she　sang　a　popular　Russian　melody；　savage　and　sweet　like　the　smile　of　a　Slav；　Jenkins　was　ingenuously　proud；　without　seeking　to　dissimulate　the　fact；　his　broad　face　all　beaming；　and　she；　each　time　that　she　bent　her　head　as　she　regained　her　breath；　glanced　in　his　direction　a　timid；　affectionate　smile　that　flew　to　seek　him　over　the　unfolded　music。　And　then；　when　she　had　finished　amid　an　admiring　and　delighted　murmur；　it　was　touching　to　notice　how　discreetly　she　gave　her　husband's　hand　a　secret　squeeze；　as　though　to　secure　to　themselves　a　corner　of　private　bliss　in　the　midst　of　her　great　triumph。　Young　de　Gery　was　feeling　cheered　by　the　spectacle　of　this　happy　couple；　when　quite　close　to　him　a　voice　murmuredit　was　not；　however；　the　same　voice　that　he　had　heard　just　before：
  〃You　know　what　they　saythat　the　Jenkinses　are　not　married。〃
  〃How　absurd！〃
  〃I　assure　you。　It　would　seem　that　there　is　a　veritable　Mme。　Jenkins　somewhere；　but　not　the　lady　we　know。　Besides；　have　you　noticed〃
  The　dialogue　continued　in　an　undertone。　Mme。　Jenkins　advanced；　bowing；　smiling；　while　the　doctor；　stopping　a　tray　that　was　being　borne　round；　brought　her　a　glass　of　claret　with　the　alacrity　of　a　mother；　an　impresario；　a　lover。　Calumny；　calumny；　ineffaceable　defilement！　To　the　provincial　young　man；　Jenkins's　attentions　now　seemed　exaggerated。　He　fancied　that　there　was　something　affected　about　them；　something　deliberate；　and；　too；　in　the　words　of　thanks　which　she　addressed　in　a　low　voice　to　her　husband　he　thought　he　could　detect　a　timidity；　a　submissiveness；　not　consonant　with　the　dignity　of　the　legitimate　spouse；　glad　and　proud　in　an　assured　happiness。　〃But　Society　is　a　hideous　affair！〃　said　de　Gery　to　himself；　dismayed　and　with　cold　hands。　The　smiles　around　him　had　upon　him　the　effect　of　hypocritical　grimaces。　He　felt　shame　and　disgust。　Then　suddenly　revolting：　〃Come；　it　is　not　possible。〃　And；　as　though　in　reply　to　this　exclamation；　behind　him　the　scandalous　tongue　resumed　in　an　easy　tone：　〃After　all；　you　know；　I　cannot　vouch　for　its　truth。　I　am　only　repeating　what　I　have　heard。　But　look！　Baroness　Hemerlingue。　He　gets　all　Paris；　this　Jenkins。〃
  The　baroness　moved　forward　on　the　arm　of　the　doctor；　who　had　rushed　to　meet　her；　and　appeared；　despite　all　his　control　of　his　facial　muscles；　a　little　ill　at　ease　and　discomfited。　He　had　thought；　the　good　Jenkins；　to　profit　by　the　opportunity　afforded　by　this　evening　party　to　bring　about　a　reconciliation　between　his　friend　Hemerlingue　and　his　friend　Jansoulet；　who　were　his　two　most　wealthy　clients　and　embarrassed　him　greatly　with　their　intestine　feud。　The　Nabob　was　perfectly　willing。　He　bore　his　old　chum　no　grudge。　Their　quarrel　had　arisen　out　of　Hemerlingue's　marriage　with　one　of　the　favourites　of　the　last　Bey。　〃A　story　with　a　woman　at　the　bottom　of　it；　in　short；〃　said　Jansoulet；　and　a　story　which　he　would　have　been　glad　to　see　come　to　an　end；　since　his　exuberant　nature　found　every　antipathy　oppressive。　But　it　seemed　that　the　baron　was　not　anxious　for　any　settlement　of　their　differences；　for；　notwithstanding　his　word　passed　to　Jenkins；　his　wife　arrived　alone；　to　the　Irishman's　great　chagrin。
  She　was　a　tall；　slender；　frail　person；　with　eyebrows　that　suggested　a　bird's　plumes；　and　a　youthful　intimidated　manner。　She　was　aged　about　thirty　but　looked　twenty；　and　wore　a　head…dress　of　grasses　and　ears　of　corn　drooping　over　very　black　hair　peppered　with　diamonds。　With　her　long　lashes　against　cheeks　white　with　that　transparency　of　complexion　which　characterizes　women　who　have　long　led　a　cloistered　existence；　and　a　little　ill　at　ease　in　her　Parisian　clothes；　she　resembled　less　one　who　had　formerly　been　a　woman　of　the　harem　than　a　nun　who；　having　renounced　her　vows；　was　returning　into　the　world。
  An　air　of　piety；　of　extreme　devoutness；　in　her　bearing；　a　certain　ecclesiastical　trick　of　walking　with　downcast　eyes；　elbows　close　to　the　body；　hands　crossed；　mannerisms　which　she　had　acquired　in　the　very　religious　atmosphere　in　which　she　had　lived　since　her　conversion　and　her　recent　baptism；　completed　this　resemblance。　And　you　can　imagine　with　what　ardent　curiosity　that　worldly　assembly　regarded　this　quondam　odalisk　turned　fervent　Catholic；　as　she　advanced　escorted　by　a　man　with　a　livid　countenance　like　that　of　some　spectacled　sacristan；　Maitre　le　Merquier；　deputy　of　Lyons；　Hemerlingue's　man　of　business；　who　accompanied　the　baroness　whenever　the　baron　〃was　somewhat　indisposed；〃　as　on　this　evening。
  At　their　entry　into　the　second　drawing…room；　the　Nabob　came　straight　up　to　her；　expecting　to　see　appear　in　her　wake　the　puffy　face　of　his　old　comrade　to　whom　it　was　agreed　that　he　should　go　and　offer　his　hand。　The　baroness　perceived　him　and　became　still　whiter。　A　flash　as　of　steel　shot　from　beneath　her　long　lashes。　Her　nostrils　dilated；　quivered；　and；　as　Jansoulet　bowed；　she　quickened　her　step；　carrying　her　head　high　and　erect；　and　letting　fall　from　her　thin　lips　an　Arab　word　which　no　one　else　could　understand　but　of　which　the　Nabob　himself　well　appreciated　the　insult；　for；　as　he　raised　his　head　again；　his　tanned　face　was　of　the　colour　of　baked　earthenware　as　it　leaves　the　furnace。　He　stood　for　an　instant　without　moving；　his　huge　fists　clinched；　his　mouth　swollen　with　anger。　Jenkins　came　up　and　rejoined　him；　and　de　Gery；　who　had　followed　the　whole　scene　from　a　distance；　saw　them　talking　together　with　preoccupied　air。
  The　thing　was　a　failure。　The　reconciliation；　so　cunningly　planned；　would　not　take　place。　Hemerlingue　did　not　desire　it。　If　only　the　duke；　now；　did　not　fail　to　keep　his　engagement　with　them。　This　reflection　was　prompted　by　the　lateness　of　the　hour。　The　Wauters　who　was　to　sing　the　music　of　the　Night　from　the　/Enchanted　Flute/；　on　her　way　home　from　her　theatre；　had　just　entered；　completely　muffled　in　her　hoods　of　lace。
  And　there　was　still　no　sign　of　the　Minister。
  It　was；　however；　a　clearly　understood；　definitely　promised　arrangement。　Monpavon　was　to　call　for　him　at　the　club。　From　time　to　time　the　good　Jenkins　glanced　at　his　watch；　while　applauding　absently　the　bouquet　of　brilliant　notes　which　the　Wauters　was　pouring　forth　from　her　fairy　lips；　a　bouquet　costing　three　thousand　francs；　useless；　like　the　other　expenses　of　the　evening；　if　the　duke　did　not　come。
  Suddenly　the　double　doors　were　flung　wide　open：
  〃His　excellency　M。　le　Duc　de　Mora！〃
  A　long　quiver　of　excitement　welcomed　him；　a　respectful　curiosity　that　ranged　itself　in　two　rows　instead　of　the　mobbing　crowd　that　flocked　on　the　heels　of　the　Nabob。
  None　better　than　he　knew　how　to　bear　himself　in　society；　to　walk　across　a　drawing…room　with　gravity；　to　endow　futile　things　with　an　air　of　seriousness；　and　to　treat　serious　things　lightly；　that　was　the　epitome　of　his　attitude　in　life；　a　paradoxical　distinction。　Still　handsome；　despite　his　fifty…six　years；　with　a　comeliness　compounded　of　elegance　and　proportion；　wherein　the　grace　of　the　dandy　was　fortified　by　something　military　about　the　figure　and　the　haughtiness　of　the　face；　he　wore　with　striking　effect　his　black　dress…coat；　on　which；　to　do　honour　to　Jenkins；　he　had　pinned　a　few　of　his　decorations；　which　he　was　in　the　habit　of　never　wearing　except　upon　official　occasions。　The　reflection　from　the　linen；　from　the　white　cravat；　the　dull　silver　of　the　decorations；　the　smoothness　of　the　thin　hair　now　turning　gray；　enhanced　the　pallor　of　the　features；　more　bloodless　than　all　the　bloodless　faces　that　were　to　be　seen　that　evening　in　the　Irishman's　house。
  He　had　led　such　a　terrible　life！　Politics；　play　under　all　its　forms；　from　the　Stock　Exchange　to　the　baccarat…table；　and　that　reputation　of　a　man　successful　with　women　which　had　to　be　maintained　at　all　costs。　Oh；　this　man　was　a　true　client　of　Jenkins；　and　this　princely　visit；　he　owed　it　in　good　sooth　to　the　inventor　of　those　mysterious　pills　which　gave　that　fire　to　his　glance；　to　his　whole　being　that　energy　so　vibrating　and　extraordinary。
  〃My　dear　duke；　permit　me　to〃
  Monpavon；　with　solemn　air　and　a　great　sense　of　his　own　importance；　endeavoured　to　effect　the　presentation　so　long　looked　forward　to；　but　his　excelle