"The spalpeen says not a word—or he's afflicted with pen-paralysis, for I've written him three times—twice since I reached Paris, giving him the address. So we'll have to make a move."

"What will you do?"

"What will you do?"

"Go to see him—or you can. At first, ye see, I thought maybe he'd gone away or died or something. But I watched the Hôtel de Vautrin in the Rue de Bac until I saw him with my own eyes. That's how I took this bronchitis—in the night air with devil a drink within a mile of me. I saw him, I tell you, as hale and hearty as ye please, and debonair like a new laid egg, with me, Barry Quinlevin, in the rain, not four paces from the carriage way."

"Go to see him—or you can. At first, ye see, I thought maybe he'd gone away or died or something. But I watched the Hôtel de Vautrin in the Rue de Bac until I saw him with my own eyes. That's how I took this bronchitis—in the night air with devil a drink within a mile of me. I saw him, I tell you, as hale and hearty as ye please, and debonair like a new laid egg, with me, Barry Quinlevin, in the rain, not four paces from the carriage way."

The visitor paused as though for a comment, and Horton offered it.

The visitor paused as though for a comment, and Horton offered it.

"He didn't see you?"

"He didn't see you?"

"Devil a one of me. For the moment I thought of bracing him then and there. But I didn't—though I was reduced to a small matter of a hundred francs or so."

"Devil a one of me. For the moment I thought of bracing him then and there. But I didn't—though I was reduced to a small matter of a hundred francs or so."

"Things are as bad as that——?"

"Things are as bad as that——?"

Quinlevin shrugged.  "I bettered myself a bit the next night and I'll find a way——"

Quinlevin shrugged.  "I bettered myself a bit the next night and I'll find a way——"

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