"Very well, and what then?"
"Madame de Pënâfiel did what any other woman would have done in her place; she simply asked, in an indifferent sort of way, the name of the man whose striking costume had necessarily attracted the attention of every one, and when the Egyptian's horse reared, and he was in danger of being thrown off backwards and killed, by having the horse fall on him, Madame de Pënâfiel was naturally overcome with terror for a minute or so. She covered her eyes with her hand, and threw herself back in her carriage without saying a word; this is the exact and entire truth."
M. de Pommerive looked at me in a mysterious manner, which he tried to render as sly as possible, and said to me, as he half closed his deceitful eyes under his gold spectacles:
"Come, come, you are also under her spell, she has bewitched you too, you are in love with her already. The devil take me if that woman ever does anything else; she is a veritable siren."
All this was so silly, and I had spoken so seriously, that I became flushed with impatience and anger; but containing myself on account of M. de Pommerive's age, I said to him, very coldly:
"Monsieur, I do not understand you, neither do you understand me. What I have told you about Madame la Marquise de Pënâfiel, whom I have not the honour of being acquainted with, is the exact truth. In the tale you have told me, she is made the victim of a malicious falsehood. You should be very much obliged to me for correcting your information, and enlightening you as to the truth of this ridiculous calumny."
Just then M. de Pommerive interrupted me, and made me many incomprehensible signals, then he bowed very low several times to some one that I did not see, for we were standing in the corridor, and I had my back turned to the staircase.
At the same instant, a man's voice said, very politely, and with a foreign accent:
"I beg pardon, gentlemen, but madame wishes to pass."
I turned quickly. It was Madame de Pënâfiel, accompanied by another lady; they were on their way to their opera box, and I was standing in the passage-way. I stepped to one side and bowed; M. de Pommerive disappeared, and I kept on to my box.