with his foot upon a wave, which flattened itself submissively and caressingly beneath the divine tread. All was dark about him. Only the stars shone in the sky. The faces of the apostles, in the vague light of the lantern, seemed convulsed with surprise. It was a wonderful and unexpected work of a master; one of those works which agitate the mind and give you something to dream of for years. People who look at such things at the outset remain silent, and then go thoughtfully away, and only speak later on of the worth of the painting. Du Roy, having contemplated it for some time, said: “It is nice to be able to afford such trifles.”
But as he was pushed against by others coming to see it, he went away, still keeping on his arm Susan’s little hand, which he squeezed slightly. She said: “Would you like a glass of champagne? Come to the refreshment buffet. We shall find papa there.”
And they slowly passed back through the saloons, in which the crowd was increasing, noisy and at home, the fashionable crowd of a public fête. George all at once thought he heard a voice say: “It is Laroche-Mathieu and Madame Du Roy.” These words flitted past his ear like those distant sounds borne