CHAPTER IX.
Finance "Il n'est pas si dangereux de faire du mal a la plupart des hommes que de leur faire trop de bien." We have seen how the Baron Giraud was called suddenly away from those pleasures of the country, which he had taken up too late in life, as many do, to the busy--ay, and stormy--scenes of Paris existence during the winter before the great war.

It was perhaps a week later--one morning, in fact, soon after the New Year--that my business bade me seek the Vicomte in his study adjoining my own.

These two apartments, it will be remembered, were separated by two doors and a small intervening corridor.

In the days when the Hotel Clericy was built, walls had ears, and every keyhole might conceal a watching eye.
Builders understood the advantage of privacy, and did not construct rooms where every movement and every spoken word may be heard in the adjoining chambers.
No sound had come to me, and I had no reason for supposing the Vicomte engaged at so early an hour.

But as I entered the room, after knocking and awaiting his permission as usual, I saw that some one was leaving it by the other door.