laugh; it passed as a tribute to Wetter's acid orrection.
"You are studying here in Paris, madame?" I asked.
"Yes," said Coralie. "Why else should we be here now?"
"Why else should I be here now?" asked Wetter. "For the matter of that, Baron, why else should you be here now? Why else should anybody be here now? It is even an excuse for Struboff's presence."
"I need no excuse for being in my own home," said Struboff, and he gulped down his liquor.
Wetter sprang up and seized him by the arm.
"You are becoming fatter and fatter and fatter. Presently you will be round, quite round; they'll make a drum of you, and I'll beat you in the orchestra while madame sings divinely on the boards. Come and see if we can possibly avoid this thing," and he led him off to the sofa. There they began to talk, Wetter suddenly dropping his burlesque and allowing a quiet, earnest manner to succeed his last outburst. I caught some mention of thousands of francs; surely there must be a bond of interest, or Wetter would have been turned out before now.
Coralie moved toward the other end of the room, which was long, although narrow. I followed her. As she sat down she remarked:
"He has lent Struboff twenty thousand francs; but for that I must have sung before I was ready."
The situation seemed a little clearer.
"But he is curious," she pursued, fixing a patiently speculative eye on Wetter. "You would say that he was fond of me?"
"It is a possible reason for his presence."
