"And yet the ground is burning beneath my feet.

It is three o'clock, and I have not yet lunched." "Poor Monsieur Martin!" cried Pilar.

"Will you have something to eat at once?
They shall serve it to you downstairs." "Madame la Comtesse is very good, but I have no time to sit down comfortably at a table.

I have all that is necessary in my carriage, and shall take some slight refreshment there, on my way to my next client." "Have you much to do to-day ?" Monsieur Martin drew out a little notebook, with ivory tablets, and a silver monogram, and held it up before Pilar's eyes.
"Eleven heads after that of Madame la Comtesse." "All for the embassy ball ?" "No, madame; I have another dance to-night in the Faubourg, and a betrothal party in the American colony." While speaking he had not remained idle.

The coiffure was being built up on a different plan, and this time Monsieur Martin appeared to be satisfied with his creation.