third, that which arose from memory. While the resurrection of the Other was, while it lasted, a terrible business, the memory was a pleasant and melancholy frame of mind, calculated to induce in a sorrowful heart a feeling of gentle sadness and philosophic pity.
As he turned his steps towards Guénégaud Street, he asked himself idly why Adolphe had fixed the corner of Guénégaud and Mazarine Streets as their meeting-place.
He took a round-about way to that corner, for he could not bring himself to walk along the strip of Mazarine Street where it runs along the palace of the Institute, formerly the Four Nations. He did not know the reason of this reluctance. He went round by De la Monnaie house, and so came into Guénégaud Street. Adolphe was awaiting him, with a very gloomy face, at the corner, and slipped his arm into his.
"Have you ever heard anyone speak of someone called the Child, Adolphe?" said Theophrastus, after they had greeted one another.
"I have indeed," said Adolphe in a tone as gloomy as his face. "And I know his name, his family name."
"Ah, what is it?" said Theophrastus anxiously.
