CHAPTER XLII 

The Prince dined carefully, but with less than his usual appetite. Afterwards he lit a cigarette and strolled for a moment into the lounge. Celeste, who was waiting for him, glided at once to his side. 

"Monsieur!" she whispered. "I have been here for one hour." 

He nodded. 

"Well?" 

"Monsieur le Duc has arrived." 

The Prince turned sharply round. 

"Who?" 

"Monsieur le Duc de Souspennier. He calls himself no longer Mr. Sabin." 

A dull flush of angry colour rose almost to his temples. 

"Why did you not tell me before?" he exclaimed. 

"Monsieur was in the restaurant," she answered. "It was impossible for me to do anything but wait." 

"Where is he?" 

"Alas! he is with madam," the girl answered. 

The Prince was very profane. He started at once for the elevator. In a moment or two he presented himself at Lucille's sitting-room. They were still lingering over their dinner. Mr. Sabin welcomed him with grave courtesy. 

"The Prince is in time to take his liqueur with us," he remarked, rising. "Will you take fin champagne, Prince, or Chartreuse? I recommend the fin champagne." 

The Prince bowed his thanks. He was white to the lips with the effort for self-mastery. 

"I congratulate you, Mr. Sabin," he said, "upon your opportune arrival. You will be able to help Lucille through the annoyance to which I deeply regret that she should be subjected." 

Mr. Sabin gently raised his eyebrows. 

"Annoyance!" he repeated. "I fear that I do not quite understand." 

The Prince smiled. 
Did he have a cigarette after that?
Afterwards he lit a cigarette