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 he had bought sewing cotton for Mme. Choiseul and pastel crayons for himself peered through the curtain as he went by with his portfolio tucked under his arm. Her pristine cordiality had waned a little when she learned that he was not acquainted with her nephew, Hercule, who lived in Philadelphia, America.

Before the window of the antiquary's shop near the rue des Dames he paused to look again at a little bronze statue of Corneille he had coveted. He could not buy it because the antiquary was holding it for a prohibitive sum, on the strength of its having once belonged, allegedly, to Lafayette. Some day, Grover reflected, a big Swede will come in and pay the thousand francs on the strength of its having belonged to Bernadotte. One of the many ramifications of the esprit gaulots.

This Sunday was to be devoted to art. As he turned into the Boulevard des Batignolles his mind was on an inn near Suresnes where he had spent a pleasant afternoon two weeks previously: a remote spot with shady plane trees, trellises, and a lawn sloping down toward the Seine.

The bus took him as far as the Pont de l'Alma, and he walked to the boat landing. It was only eleven o'clock, and the Sunday promenaders had not got a good start. Soon the city would be at its festive worst. As the little steamer drew alongside he was cheered by the sight of an empty bench on the shady side of the deck. As they left the city behind, he slid down in the seat till his back was in a straight line with his