The jeweler bowed them out, saying: "You can depend upon me; it will be ready on Thursday, Baron."
They paused before the Vaudeville, at which a new piece was being played.
"If you like," said he, "we will go to the theater this evening. Let us see if we can have a box."
They took a box, and he continued: "Suppose we dine at a restaurant."
"Oh, yes; I should like that!"
He was as happy as a king, and sought what else they could do. "Suppose we go and ask Madame de Marelle to spend the evening with us. Her husband is at home, I hear, and I shall be delighted to see him."
They went there. George, who slightly dreaded the first meeting with his mistress, was not ill-pleased that his wife was present to prevent anything like an explanation. But Clotilde did not seem to remember anything against him, and even obliged her husband to accept the invitation.
The dinner was lovely, and the evening pleasant. George and Madeleine got home late. The gas was out, and to light them upstairs, the journalist struck a wax match from time to time. On reaching the first-floor landing the flame, suddenly starting forth as he struck, caused their two lit-up faces to show in the glass standing out against the darkness of the staircase. They resembled phantoms, appearing and ready to vanish into the night.
Du Roy raised his hand to light up their reflections, and said, with a laugh of triumph: "Behold the millionaires!"