One of them terrified the occupants of the studio with her insistence.  She was a North American of uncertain age, somewhere between thirty-two and fifty-nine, with short skirts that whenever she sat down, seemed to fly up as if moved by a spring.  Various dances with Desnoyers and a visit to the rue de la Pompe she seemed to consider as her sacred rights, and she pursued the master with the desperation of an abandoned zealot.  Julio had made good his escape upon learning that this beauty of youthful elegance—­when seen from the back—­had two grandchildren.  “Master Desnoyers has gone out,” Argensola would invariably say upon receiving her.  And, thereupon she would burst into tears and threats, longing to kill herself then and there that her corpse might frighten away those other women who would come to rob her of what she considered her special privilege.  Now it was Argensola who sped his companion to the street when he wished to be alone.  He had only to remark casually, “I believe that Yankee is coming,” and the great man would beat a hasty retreat, oftentimes in his desperate flight availing himself of the back stairs.

At this time began to develop the most important event in Julio’s existence.  The Desnoyers family was to be united with that of Senator Lacour.  Rene, his only son, had succeeded in awakening in Chichi a certain interest that was almost love.  The dignitary enjoyed thinking of his son allied to the boundless plains and immense herds whose description always affected him like a marvellous tale.  He was a widower, but he enjoyed giving at his home famous banquets and parties.  Every new celebrity immediately suggested to him the idea of giving a dinner.  No illustrious person passing through Paris, polar explorer or famous singer, could escape being exhibited in the dining room of Lacour.  The son of Desnoyers—­at whom he had scarcely glanced before—­now inspired him with sudden interest.  The senator was a thoroughly up-to-date man who did not classify glory nor distinguish reputations.  It was enough for him that a name should be on everybody’s lips for him to accept it with enthusiasm.  When Julio responded to his invitation, he presented him with pride to his friends, and came very near to calling him “dear master.”  The tango was monopolizing all conversation nowadays.  Even in the Academy they were taking it up in order to demonstrate that the youth of ancient Athens had diverted itself in a somewhat similar way. . . .  And Lacour had dreamed all his life of an Athenian republic.

At these reunions, Desnoyers became acquainted with the Lauriers.  He was an engineer who owned a motor-factory for automobiles in the outskirts of Paris—­a man about thirty-five, tall, rather heavy and silent, with a deliberate air as though he wished to see deeply into men and things.  She was of a light, frivolous character, loving life for the satisfactions and pleasures which it brought her, appearing to accept with smiling conformity the silent and grave adoration of her husband.  She could not well do less with a man of his merits.  Besides, she had brought to the marriage a dowry of three hundred thousand francs, a capital which had enabled the engineer to enlarge his business.  The senator had been instrumental in arranging this marriage.  He was interested in Laurier because he was the son of an old friend.