"Have a glass of wine," insisted Andrée, putting her arm affectionately about the slender waist and pouring out a glass of champagne.
Lerouge regarded them with a frown of disapproval. Turning to M. Marot, he said,—
"You were congratulating France just now upon a new ministry, monsieur. At least the new ministry ought to give us a new set of spies. Don't you think——"
But the wine-glass broke the last sentence, as it fell to the floor with a crash.
Only the protecting arm of Mlle. Remy sustained the drooping figure for a moment, then Jean and his affianced bride bore it gently to the model's home.
CHAPTER XXII[ToC]
"C'est fini!"