“Do you think so?”
“Yes, if you make up your mind to do anything to arrive at this end.”
“I promise you.”
“But you must give up sighing, as you were doing just now.”
“Very well. I sighed for Gilbert, and as he is dead, and there are not two Gilberts in the world, I shall sigh no more. But enough of him.”
“Yes; we will speak of yourself. Why did you run away with Beausire?”
“Because I wished to quit Trianon, and I was obliged to go with some one; I could no longer remain a ‘pis aller,’ rejected by Gilbert.”
“You have, then, been faithful for ten years through pride? You have paid dearly for it.”
Oliva laughed.
“Oh, I know what you are laughing at. To hear a man, who pretends to know everything, accuse you of having been ten years faithful, when you think you have not rendered yourself worthy of such a ridiculous reproach. However, I know all about you. I know that you went to Portugal with Beausire, where you remained two years; that you then left him, and went to the Indies with the captain of a frigate, who hid you in his cabin, and who left you at Chandernagor when he returned to Europe. I know that you had two millions of rupees to spend in the house of a nabob who kept you shut up; that you escaped through the window on the shoulders of a slave. Then, rich—for you had carried away two beautiful pearl bracelets, two diamonds, and three large rubies—you came back to France. When landing at Brest, your evil genius made you encounter Beausire on the quay, who recognized you immediately, bronzed and altered as you were, while you almost fainted at the sight of him.”