Madame led them into the little back room, into which she sometimes invited the especially favoured of her customers.In two comfortable armchairs, by a big window that opened upon the courtyard, she placed them, with a low table between.Bustling hospitably about, she began to prepare the promised refreshments.
It was the first time the reporters had been honoured with admission to the sacred precincts.The room was in dusky twilight, flecked with gleams of the polished, fine woods and burnished glass and metal that the Creoles love.From the little courtyard a tiny fountain sent in an insinuating sound of trickling waters, to which a banana plant by the window kept time with its tremulous leaves.
Robbins, an investigator by nature, sent a curious glance roving about the room.From some barbaric ancestor, madame had inherited a /penchant/ for the crude in decoration.
The walls were adorned with cheap lithographs--florid libels upon nature, addressed to the taste of the /bourgeoisie/--birthday cards, garish newspaper supplements, and specimens of art-advertising calculated to reduce the optic nerve to stunned submission.A patch of something unintelligible in the midst of the more candid display puzzled Robbins, and he rose and took a step nearer, to interrogate it at closer range.Then he leaned weakly against the wall, and called out:
"Madame Tibault! Oh, madame! Since when--oh! since when have you been in the habit of papering your walls with five thousand dollar United States four per cent.gold bonds? Tell me--is this a Grimm's fairy tale, or should I consult an oculist?"
At his words, Madame Tibault and Dumars approached.
"H'what you say?" said madame, cheerily."H'what you say, M'sieur Robbin? /Bon/! Ah! those nize li'l peezes papier! One tam I think those w'at you call calendair, wiz ze li'l day of mont' below.But, no.Those wall is broke in those plaze, M'sieur Robbin', and I plaze those li'l peezes papier to conceal ze crack.I did think the couleur harm'nize so well with the wall papier.Where I get them from? Ah, yes, I remem' ver' well.One day M'sieur Morin, he come at my houze--thass 'bout one mont' before he shall die--thass 'long 'bout tam he promise fo' inves' those money fo' me.M'sieur Morin, he leave thoze li'l peezes papier in those table, and say ver' much 'bout money thass hard for me to ond'stan./Mais/ I never see those money again.Thass ver' wicked man, M'sieur Morin.H'what you call those peezes papier, M'sieur Robbi'--/bon/!"
Robbins explained.
"There's your twenty thousand dollars, with coupons attached," he said, running his thumb around the edge of the four bonds."Better get an expert to peel them off for you.Mister Morin was right.I'm going out to get my ears trimmed."
He dragged Dumars by the arm into the outer room.Madame was screaming for Nicolette and Meme to come and observe the fortune returned to her by M'sieur Morin, that best of men, that saint in glory.
"Marsy," said Robbins, "I'm going on a jamboree.For three days the esteemed /Pic./ will have to get along without my valuable services.I advise you to join me.Now, that green stuff you drink is no good.It stimulates thought.What we want to do is to forget to remember.I'll introduce you to the only lady in this case that is guaranteed to produce the desired results.Her name is Belle of Kentucky, twelve-
year-old Bourbon.In quarts.How does the idea strike you?"
"/Allons/!" said Dumars."/Cherchez la femme/."
