"Since it is the last night, Michel," he said, with a smile, "we will drink another bottle of beer." He leaned back in his chair and once more grew silent, watching the thronged street and the twinkling lights.

In the little square one of the musicians with a very clear sweet voice was singing a plaintive song, and above the hum of the crowd, the melody, haunting in its wistfulness, floated to Chayne's ears, and troubled him with many memories.
Michel leaned forward upon the table and answered not merely with sympathy but with the air of one speaking out of full knowledge, and speaking moreover in a voice of warning.
"True, monsieur.

The happiest memories can be very bitter--if one has no one to share them.

All is in that, monsieur.

If," and he repeated his phrase--"If one has no one to share them." Then the technical side of Chayne's proposal took hold of him.
"The Col Dolent?
You will have to start early from the Chalet de Lognan, monsieur.