"Nom de Dieu," said she, "I believe that I shall escape, after all. So you and I will be separated, Wetter."
"No, no," he protested. "Unless you're there the place won't be itself to me."
We all laughed—Struboff not in appreciation, but with a nervous desire to make himself agreeable—and I rose from my seat. It was three o'clock in the morning. Struboff yawned mightily as he drank a final glass and patted his stomach. I think that we were all happier than when we sat down.
"And after the occasion, whither?" I asked them.
"I back to France," answered Varvilliers.
"We to Munich," said Coralie, with a shrug.
"I the deuce knows where," laughed Wetter.
"I also the deuce knows where. Come, then, to our next merry supper!" I poured out a glass of wine. They all followed my example, and we drank.
"But we shall have no more," said Wetter.
A moment's silence fell on us all. Then Wetter spoke again. He turned to them and indicated me with a gesture.