The dress in which Carmen died he wrapped up carefully, with her few jewels and her wedding-ring, and gave the parcel to Mme.

Glozel to care for till he should send for it or come again.
"The bird--take him on my birthday to sing at her grave," he said to Mme.

Glozel just before he went West.

"It is in summer, my birthday, and you shall hear how he will sing there," he added in a low voice at the very door.

Then he took out a ten-dollar bill, and would have given it to her to do this thing for him; but she would have none of his money.
She only wiped her eyes and deplored his going, and said that if ever he wanted a home, and she was alive, he would know where to find it.
It sounded and looked sentimental, yet Jean Jacques was never less sentimental in a very sentimental life.