gossip touched now this one, now that one. All were laughing.
The apothecary told about Clotild, the faded beauty of the house in the corner of the common, and he told of that meeting and of the racy conversation of the town ladies, which Miss Clotild had overheard behind the door. Then he suddenly stopped,—he had to mention Lucy, but he did not know how.
Here the doctor helped him. “We all know that . . .” and he proceeded to tell the story himself. There was a burst of laughter.
Then he turned excitedly to Jiří, “Tell us yourself, what are the real facts concerning the girl? All the women are so down on her. Of course, I understand, she is a fine-looking girl. My wife is quite liberal, but she will not hear of her. Is it true, what they say of you and her? You are among friends here!”
Jiří slowly lighted a cigarette. Some-
