It's our own little private affair." And turning to Muffat, who was watching them with his serious expression: "Isn't it, my friend ?" "Yes, certainly," he murmured with a slow nod of approval.
He no longer protested now.

And so amid that company of gentlemen with the great names and the old, upright traditions, the two women sat face to face, exchanging tender glances, conquering, reigning, in tranquil defiance of the laws of sex, in open contempt for the male portion of the community.

The gentlemen burst into applause.
The company went upstairs to take coffee in the little drawing room, where a couple of lamps cast a soft glow over the rosy hangings and the lacquer and old gold of the knickknacks.

At that hour of the evening the light played discreetly over coffers, bronzes and china, lighting up silver or ivory inlaid work, bringing into view the polished contours of a carved stick and gleaming over a panel with glossy silky reflections.
The fire, which had been burning since the afternoon, was dying out in glowing embers.

It was very warm--the air behind the curtains and hangings was languid with warmth.