She said doggedly, “Vive le roi!” under her breath.
“My God!” he whispered, and called the waiter.
He eyed her askance and nervously as the man came. Some distraught admiration seemed to mingle with his apprehension of her. She sat languid and indifferent, and even closed her eyes, with a little disdainful smile, as he leaned down to her and ran his finger eagerly over the various items of the bill of fare.
“Ostend oysters, carp fried in milk, sweetbread patty—that is good. Ragout of the kidneys and combs of cocks—that is very good—Carinne, see! the ragout! Holy saints, but my pocket! Slice of calf’s head, turtle fashion—girl, are you listening? Be reckless. Take of all if you will. I bid thee—thy little uncle, ma mie. Slice of—Carinne, this is better than the cabbages and fried eggs of Pierrettes. I will not care—I will not. Though I have to cut down trees to meet it, the palate shall have its holiday. Slice of—mon Dieu, Carinne! I ate of it once before in this very house. It melts like the manna of the Israelites. It does not surfeit, but it forms an easy bed for the repose of ecstasies more acute.”
The girl broke in with a little high-flung laugh.
“Not trees, but a forest,” she said. “There—choose for me. I am indifferent.”
“Indifferent! indifferent?—Oh, undeserving of the fine gifts of the gods!”
He turned to the waiter, his eyes still devouring the carte, his lips silently busy with its contents. Presently he gave his order, sat down, and remained fixedly gnawing a finger, his face set half in enjoying contemplation, half in a baffled aggravation of selection.
In only one other direction did the couple appear to arouse curiosity. The great nerve of the town was all charged with a leaping electricity, and citizens, staid enough ordinarily, ate now and drank under an excitement they could barely control.
But, over against me, at a little distance, were two men seated at a table; and of these one seemed to take a like interest with mine in my neighbours.