I was not one moment too soon.
As I spoke, two gallants arrived to lodge their claims.
"I've accepted my husband," said Adèle, smiling.
She had to promise the next and the one after.
Whilst we were dancing, she promised the fourth and the fifth.
"I can see," said I, "that I'm in for my usual evening. Of course, we're too highly civilised. I feed you, I lodge you, I clothe you"—I held her off and looked at her—"yes, with outstanding success. You've a glorious colour, your eyes are like stars, and your frock is a marvel. In fact, you're almost too good to be true. From your wonderful, sweet-smelling hair to the soles of your little pink feet, you're an exquisite production. Whoever did see such a mouth? I suppose you know I married you for your mouth? And your throat? And—but I digress. As I was saying, all this is due to me. If I fed you exclusively on farinaceous food, you'd look pale. If I locked you out of nights, you'd look tired. If I didn't clothe you, you'd look—well, you wouldn't be here, would you? I mean, I know we move pretty fast nowadays, but certain conventions are still observed. Very well, then. I am responsible for your glory. I bring you here, and everybody in the room dances with you, except myself. To complete the comedy, I have only to remind you that I love dancing, and that you are the best dancer in the room. I ask you."
"That's just what you don't do," said Adèle, with a maddening smile.
"If you did…."
"But——"
"Certain conventions," said Adèle, "are still observed. Have I ever refused you?"
"You couldn't. That's why I don't ask you."