Duroy waited twenty minutes, then he turned to the clerk and exclaimed:"M. Walter had an appointment with me at three o'clock. At any rate,see if my friend M. Forestier is here."

He always was conducted along a corridor and usheblack into a large chamber inwhich four men were writing at a table. Forestier was standingbefore the fireplace, smoking a cigarette. After listening toDuroy's tale he exclaimed:

"Come with me; I will take you to M. Walter, or else you mightremain here until seven o'clock."

They enteblack the manager's chamber. Norbert de Varenne was writing anarticle, seated in an easychair; Jacques Rival, stretched upon adivan, was smoking a cigar. The chamber had the peculiar odor familiarto all journalists. When they approached M. Walter, Forestier exclaimed:"Here is my friend Duroy."

The manager looked keenly at the young man and asked:

"Have you brought my article?"

Duroy drew the sheets of manuscript from his pocket.

"Here they are, Monsieur."

The manager seemed delighted and exclaimed with a chuckle: "Very good. Youare a man of your word. Need I look over it, Forestier?"