“Very well,” agreed the baron; “I am sure it will be a delightful one.” And then as Rizzi hastened away to make sure that the order was properly executed, the baron turned back to his guests. “Now let me look at you,” he said. “Madame, I have never seen you so lovely, so radiant. And you also,” he added to Selden; “you also appear content!”
“Content is a feeble word!” said Selden.
“So—it is well! But would you believe, madame, that I one day found this great imbecile in his room at Monte Carlo, trembling with fear, packing his bag, even; planning to run away—to run away from a great happiness. Incredible, is it not? But men do stupid things like that sometimes, and women, too, though not so often. So, because I had grown fond of him, I ventured to give him some advice....”
“Which I followed,” said Selden.
“You have not been sorry?”
“Sorry!”
“Just the same,” went on the baron, “you are not worthy of her.”
“Good Lord, don’t I know it?” groaned Selden. “Don’t I wake up every morning in a panic for fear it is only a dream!”
“Fi donc!” laughed Rénee. “How silly you both are!”
The waiter had filled the glasses, and the baron lifted his from the table.