"Poor thing!" muttered he, as the widow departed on her errand, "she's seen better days and better circumstances than she'll ever see again, I'm sure. Gold-handled, too. And her kind of love forgives everything and anything but infidelity. Then suddenly the curtain would fall. You notice that I have recently spent ten francs on a box of the best Russian cigarettes, and that there are roses upon my table. Her fingers rested upon his. She laughed a little bitterly. It was an oldfashioned peasant blouse, white, square necked, and trimmed with lace. Men do services for the love of women, and the woman who takes must pay.
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