Juve smiled.
"You are going to see, my lad."
He settled himself again in the wheel chair, drew a heavy rug over his knees and became once more the old invalid.
"My dear friend, will you open the door for me?"
Fandor laughingly complied, and Juve wheeled himself into another room.
"You see I have plenty of air here thanks to this balcony upon which I can wheel my chair. Would you be good enough to pass me that spy-glass?"
Juve pointed the glass toward the far end of Boulevard Pereire, in the direction of Poste Maillot.
"Mlle. Josephine has lately had a craze for keeping her nails polished."
"But you are not looking toward the house opposite, you are looking in a contrary direction!"