And when at last he lowered his gaze in the direction of the journalist he seemed still further to emphasize the majesty of his attitude.

For some seconds the two men looked at one another.

It was Fauchery who first stretched out his hand.

Muffat gave him his.

Their hands remained clasped, and the Countess Sabine with downcast eyes stood smiling before them, while the waltz continually beat out its mocking, vagabond rhythm.
"But the thing's going on wheels!" said Steiner.
"Are their hands glued together ?" asked Foucarmont, surprised at this prolonged clasp.