Even under normal conditions, that was a foolish thing to promise. But when a man was experiencing brand-new sensations--the sensations of being engaged--it was quite impossible to make such a promise. "Monsieur can at least promise not to talk." "I will do that," agreed Monte. She came back and reported that mademoiselle was sitting up, and begged to present her regards and express the hope that he was resting comfortably. "Please to tell her I am, and that I hope she will now go to bed," he answered. Nurse Duval did that, and returned. "What did she say?" inquired Monte. "But, monsieur--" She had no intention of spending the rest of the night as a messenger between those two rooms. "Very well," submitted Monte. "But you might tell me what she said." "She said she was not sleepy," answered the nurse. "I'm glad she's awake," said Monte. Just because he was awake. In a sense, it gave them this city for themselves. It was as if this immediately became their city. That was not good arithmetic. Assuming that the city contained a population of three millions,--he did not have his Baedeker at hand,--then clearly he could consider only one three millionth part of the city as his. With her awake in the next room, that made only two of them, so that taken collectively they had a right to claim only two three-millionths parts as belonging to them. Yet that was not the way it worked out. As far as he was concerned, the other two millions nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-eight did not exist. There was nothing sentimental about this conclusion. He did not think of it as it affected her--merely as it affected him. It gave him rather a comfortable, completed feeling, as if he now had within himself the means for peacefully enjoying life, wherever he might be, even at thirty-two. Under the influence of this soothing thought, he fell asleep again. After the doctors were through with Monte the next morning, they