So I went with William Adolphus. Several men whom I knew were present, among them Wetter and M. le Vicomte de Varvilliers, second secretary of the French Embassy and a mirror of fashion. We were quite informal. Varvilliers sat on my left and employed himself in giving me an account of my right-hand neighbour Coralie. I listened absently, for the sight of Wetter had stirred other thoughts in my mind. I had not yet spoken to Coralie; my brother-in-law monopolized her.
"I ought to speak to her, I suppose?" I said to Varvilliers at last.
"A thousand pardons for engrossing your Majesty!" he cried. "Yes, I think you should."
William Adolphus' voice flowed on in the account of a match between one of his horses and one of somebody else's. I turned to follow Varvilliers' advice; rather to my surprise, I found Coralie's eyes fixed on me with an appearance of faint amusement. She began to address me without waiting for me to say anything.
"Why do you listen to what Varvilliers says about me instead of finding out about me yourself?" she asked.
"How do you know he talked of you, mademoiselle?"
She shrugged her shoulders and returned to her salad. William Adolphus asked her a question; she nodded without looking up from the salad. I began to eat my salad.
"It's a good salad," I observed, after a few mouthfuls.
"Very," said Coralie; she turned her great eyes on me. "And, mon Dieu, what a rare thing!" she added with a sigh.
Probably she would expect a touch of gallantry.