Newman thanked her for the information, took the second turning to the left, and arrived at the Cafe de la Patrie.

He felt a momentary hesitation to go in; was it not rather mean to "follow up" poor old Nioche at that rate?
But there passed across his vision an image of a haggard little septuagenarian taking measured sips of a glass of sugar and water and finding them quite impotent to sweeten his desolation.

He opened the door and entered, perceiving nothing at first but a dense cloud of tobacco smoke.

Across this, however, in a corner, he presently descried the figure of M.Nioche, stirring the contents of a deep glass, with a lady seated in front of him.

The lady's back was turned to Newman, but M.Nioche very soon perceived and recognized his visitor.