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In
point
of
fact
I
’
ve
not
spoken
to
a
soul
for
three
days
.
My
French
isn
’
t
exactly
brilliant
.
"
I
wondered
as
I
preceded
him
downstairs
what
had
happened
to
the
little
lady
in
the
tea
-
shop
.
Had
they
quarrelled
already
,
or
was
his
infatuation
passed
?
It
seemed
hardly
likely
if
,
as
appeared
,
he
had
been
taking
steps
for
a
year
to
make
his
desperate
plunge
.
We
walked
to
the
Avenue
de
Clichy
,
and
sat
down
at
one
of
the
tables
on
the
pavement
of
a
large
cafe
.
The
Avenue
de
Clichy
was
crowded
at
that
hour
,
and
a
lively
fancy
might
see
in
the
passers
-
by
the
personages
of
many
a
sordid
romance
.
There
were
clerks
and
shopgirls
;
old
fellows
who
might
have
stepped
out
of
the
pages
of
Honore
de
Balzac
;
members
,
male
and
female
,
of
the
professions
which
make
their
profit
of
the
frailties
of
mankind
.
There
is
in
the
streets
of
the
poorer
quarters
of
Paris
a
thronging
vitality
which
excites
the
blood
and
prepares
the
soul
for
the
unexpected
.
"
Do
you
know
Paris
well
?
"
I
asked
.
"
No
.
We
came
on
our
honeymoon
.
I
haven
’
t
been
since
.
"
"
How
on
earth
did
you
find
out
your
hotel
?
"
"
It
was
recommended
to
me
.
I
wanted
something
cheap
.
"
The
absinthe
came
,
and
with
due
solemnity
we
dropped
water
over
the
melting
sugar
.
"
I
thought
I
’
d
better
tell
you
at
once
why
I
had
come
to
see
you
,
"
I
said
,
not
without
embarrassment
.
His
eyes
twinkled
.
"
I
thought
somebody
would
come
along
sooner
or
later
.
I
’
ve
had
a
lot
of
letters
from
Amy
.
"
