This chocolate is very good; it is better than that which I get in my hotel." "Good heavens!" cried Ricardo, who was fairly twittering with excitement.

"You sit there talking about chocolate while my cup shakes in my fingers." "Again I must remind you that you are the amateur, I the professional, my friend." As the morning drew on, however, Hanaud's professional quietude deserted him.

He began to start at the sound of footsteps in the corridor, to glance every other moment from the window, to eat his cigarettes rather than to smoke them.

At eleven o'clock Ricardo's valet brought a telegram into the room.

Ricardo seized it.
"Calmly, my friend," said Hanaud.
With trembling fingers Ricardo tore it open.