He was a kind-looking fellow, and I saw the tears standing in his eyes.
"And mademoiselle is so beautiful!" he whispered.
"What the devil business is it of yours ?" said I, in a low but fierce tone.
"None," said he.

"I am content to leave it to you, sir;" and without more he turned and went downstairs.
It was all very well to leave it to me; but what--failing that simple, easy, proper, and impossible course of action which I have indicated--was I to do?
Well, what I did was this: I went to the door of the room and knocked softly.

There was no answer.

The sobs continued.

I had been a brute to this girl in the morning; I thought of that as I stood outside.
"My God! what's the matter with her ?" I whispered.
And then I opened the door softly.
Marie Delhasse sat in a chair, her head resting in her hands and her hands on the table; and her body was shaken with her weeping.
And on the table, hard by her bowed golden head, there lay a square leathern box.