“But yes. Monsieur is very good. It is that my husband would smoke. He is an old soldier. He smokes all the time. _Ciel!_ They are like chimneys, these old soldiers. This man of mine regrets that he cannot smoke when he is asleep!” While Madame delivered this address she continued also to mount the steps, and as she finished it she seated herself in the corner of the carriage opposite to me. She was short and round and sixty years old, and smiling like the sun on a fine day. Her dress was the charming dress of Aries, but over her kerchief she wore a silk mantle that glittered with an embroidery of jet beads. This mantle was precious to her. Her first act upon seating herself was to take it …
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