I had troubled to put on a tail coat and white waistcoat, not a dinner jacket as usual, and had even a buttonhole of a gardenia, found by Burton for this great occasion!
I looked into her eyes with my one blue one, which is I suppose, as blue as her own. She instantly averted her glance.
"I cannot offer you my arm, milady," I said rather sarcastically, "So we will have to go in after each other."
She bowed and led the way.
The table was too beautifully decorated, and the dinner a masterpiece! while the champagne was iced to perfection, and the Burgundy a poem! The pupils of Alathea's eyes before the partridge came, were black as night. Burton discreetly marshalled Antoine out of the room each time after the dishes were handed.
"When will you get your new eye?" my wife—I like to write that!—asked in the first interval when we were alone, "and your new leg?"
"I suppose they will both be restored to me in a day or two. It will be so wonderful to walk again."
"I should think so."
Then something seemed to strike her suddenly, of how hateful it must all have been for me. Her hard expression changed and she almost whispered: