"Yes; but not too often," replied the registrar of the Palace, foppishly; "for I declare I shall be scolded if I return later than usual to a small house in the Rue du Petit Musc."
"Oh, we shall arrange all that splendidly; shall we not, my dear?"
Madame Durand, pale and melancholy as usual, raised her eyes toward her husband, and replied,—
"What you wish shall be done."
Eleven o'clock struck, announcing it was time to retire. The registrar of the Palace rose and took leave of his new friends, expressing the great pleasure he felt in making their acquaintance.
The Citizen Durand conducted his friend to the landing, then re-entered the apartment.
"Go, Geneviève, go to bed!" said he.
The young woman made no reply, but rose directly, took her lamp, and withdrew to the bedroom on the right. Durand, or rather Dixmer, watched her departure, remained stationary for a moment with a gloomy, thoughtful expression of countenance, and then passed into his own chamber on the opposite side.