“Why?”
“Because he is our friend. He is a bore, I grant you, but he is nevertheless a sterling good fellow: he has done me many a good turn, and you have told me yourself that but for his kind offices you do not know what would have become of you in this great city.”
“True,” replied Eusebe.
“And, consequently, you ought to avail yourself of every opportunity to make yourself agreeable to him.”
“Without doubt. But—I cannot go: an affair of importance renders it necessary for me to be at Paris this evening at seven o’clock.”
“Nothing is easier: we will return by the six o’clock train.”
“Very well: I will go.”
Arm in arm, the two friends directed their steps towards the Western depot.
Eusebe was silent and thoughtful, and so was Paul Buck. Eusebe was thinking of Adéonne, and Paul thought of what his friend could be thinking of.