Alphonse was never really in his element except when in female society. Then all his exhilarating amiability came into play, and when he leaned back at supper and held out his shallow champagne glass to be refilled, he was as beautiful as a happy god.
He had a neck of the kind which women long to caress, and his soft, half-curling hair looked as if it were negligently arranged, or carefully disarranged, by a woman's coquettish hand.
Indeed, many slim white fingers had passed through those locks; for Alphonse had not only the gift of being loved by women, but also the yet rar
er gift of being forgiven by them.
When the friends were together at gay supper parties, Alphonse paid no particular heed to Charles. He kept no account of his own love affairs, far less of those of his friend. So it might easily happen that a beauty on whom Charles had east a longing eye fell into the hands of Alphonse.
Charles was used to seeing his friend preferred in life; but there are certain things to which men can scarcely accustom themselves. He seldom went with Alphonse to his suppers, and it was always long before the wine and the general exhilaration could bring him into a convivial humour.
But then, when the champagne and the bright eyes had gone to his head, he would often be the wildest of all; he would sing loudly with his harsh
