THE RETREAT War had extended one of its antennae even to the avenue Victor Hugo.

It was a silent war in which the enemy, bland, shapeless and gelatinous, seemed constantly to be escaping from the hands only to renew hostilities a little later on.
"I have Germany in my own house," growled Marcelo Desnoyers.
"Germany" was Dona Elena, the wife of von Hartrott.

Why had not her son--that professor of inexhaustible sufficiency whom he now believed to have been a spy--taken her home with him?
For what sentimental caprice had she wished to stay with her sister, losing the opportunity of returning to Berlin before the frontiers were closed?
The presence of this woman in his home was the cause of many compunctions and alarms.

Fortunately, the chauffeur and all the men-servants were in the army.

The two chinas received an order in a threatening tone.