One-half of its interior was partitioned off and filled with long tables, at which, earlier in the day, workmen were served with _dejeuner_, while the other and smaller portion, reserved for more fastidious guests, was fitted with a counter, ranged with fruit and cakes, and with half a dozen round marble-topped tables, provided with chairs.
This more refined portion of the _cafe_ was empty of customers as the two entered.

With the ease and decision of an _habitue_, the Irishman chose the table nearest to the counter, and presently a woman appeared from some inner region, and, approaching her customers, eyed them with that mixture of shrewd observation and polite welcome that belongs to the Frenchwoman who follows the ways of commerce.
"Good-day, messieurs!" She inclined her head to one side like a plump and speculative bird, and her hands began mechanically to smooth her black alpaca apron.
"Good-day, madame!" The Irishman rose and took off his hat with a flourish that was essentially flattering.
The bright little eyes of the _Parisienne_ sparkled, and her round face relaxed into the inevitable smile.
'What could she have the pleasure of offering monsieur?
It was late, but she had an excellent _ragout_, now a little cold, perhaps, but capable in an instant--' The stranger put up his hand.

"Madame, we could not think of giving you the trouble--" "Monsieur, a pleasure--" "No, madame, it is past the hour of _dejeuner_.

All we need is your charming hospitality and two cups of coffee." 'Coffee! But certainly! While monsieur was saying the word it would be made and served.' Madame hurried off, and in silence the Irishman took out his cigarette-case and offered it to the boy.

Bare and even cold as the _cafe_ was, there was a certain sense of shelter in the closed glass door, in the blue film of cigarette smoke that presently began to mount upward toward the ceiling, and in the pleasant smell of coffee borne to them from unseen regions mingling with the shrill, cheerful tones of their hostess's voice.
"A wonderful place, Paris, when all's said and done!" murmured the Irishman, drawing in a long, luxurious breath of smoke.