I looked around and could see nothing but a confused mingling of objects living and dead; I could only distinguish clearly a woman bowing over the counter, asking me a question that I did not hear. My agitation made me deaf and blind.
"Madame," I said, "have you any ... Chinese curiosities?"
"We have, monsieur, black tea, green tea, and some very fine Pekin."
"Well, madame, ... give me some of all."
"Do you want it in boxes, monsieur?"
"In boxes, madame, if you choose."
I looked all around the room and saw nobody but two old women standing behind another counter—no signs of Irene.
I paid for my tea, and while writing down my address, I questioned the saleswoman:
"I promised my wife to meet her here at three o'clock to select this tea—not that my presence was necessary, as her taste is always mine—but she requested me to come, and I fear I have made a mistake in the hour, my watch has run down and I had no idea it was so late—I hope she did not wait for me? has she been here?" Thereupon I gave a minute description of Irene de Chateaudun, from the color of her hair to the shade of her boot.
"Yes, monsieur, she was here about three o'clock, it is now five; she was only here a few minutes—long enough to make a little purchase."