Reaching the fourth story, he stopped before the door which faced the stairs, and knocked lightly.
At once, the voice, which had just commenced another verse stopped short, and inquired, “Who’s there?”
“I, Maxence!”
“At this hour!” replied the voice with an ironical laugh. “That’s lucky. You have probably forgotten that we were to go to the theatre last night, and start for St. Germain at seven o’clock this morning.”
“Don’t you know then?” Maxence began, as soon as he could put in a word.
“I know that you did not come home last night.”
“Quite true. But when I have told you—”
“What? the lie you have imagined? Save yourself the trouble.”
“Lucienne, I beg of you, open the door.”
“Impossible, I am dressing. Go to your own room: as soon as I am dressed, I’ll join you.”