"Well," she said, "I must tell my husband you are here." Durtal remained silent, wondering what role Chantelouve actually played in this triangle.
Chantelouve returned with his wife.

He was in his dressing-gown and had a pen in his mouth.

He took it out and put it on the table, and after assuring Durtal that his health was completely restored, he complained of overwhelming labours.

"I have had to quit giving dinners and receptions," he said, "I can't even go visiting.

I am in harness every day at my desk." And when Durtal asked him the nature of these labours, he confessed to a whole series of unsigned volumes on the lives of the saints, to be turned out by the gross by a Tours firm for exportation.
"Yes," said his wife, laughing, "and these are _sadly neglected_ saints whose biographies he is preparing." And as Durtal looked at him inquiringly, Chantelouve, also laughing, said, "It was their persons that were _sadly neglected_.