"How could it be on the contrary?"
"Certainly it could. I bet you that Madame de Pënâfiel, meeting you frequently in society, and seeing that you take no pains to be presented to her, will manage, out of pure contradiction, to have it brought about in spite of your opposition."
"That would be a triumph to be very proud of,—but I do not believe it will ever happen. In fact, I have so little confidence in it that I will accept your wager, which is this: A month after her return, I shall not have been presented to Madame de Pënâfiel."
"But," said De Cernay, "it must be understood that, if such a proposition comes from her, you are not to refuse."
"It is so understood," said I, interrupting him. "I certainly would never answer so honourable and flattering a proposal by a rudeness; so, as I repeat to you, I will accept your wager."
"Your two hundred louis are as good as mine," said the count as he left me. "But stop a moment," he added, as he held out his hand; "thanks for your frankness."
"What frankness?"
"What you said about friendship,—your thoughts on the subject which you expressed so bluntly. It shows that you are very honest."
"With discretion, or rather dissimulation, honesty is my other virtue," said I, shaking his hand cordially. And so we parted.