Page:Middle Aged Love Stories (IA middleagedlove00bacorich).djvu/162



M. Laroche smiled.

"'And zy chicks onprofenned by a tearr,'" he repeated softly. "Ah, yes! Indeed!"

The last faint quaver died away, there was a light rustle of skirts, and Miss Sabina stood at the window.

"Good night, monsieur," she said softly.

M. Laroche tossed away the end of his cigarette.

"Vous chantez très bien, mademoiselle," he said, with his inimitable bow. "Good night."

And with this, his invariable phrase, he went to his room off th