Mme. Chambannes nodded assent. At that moment the doors of the lecture hall swung back under the pressure of the departing audience and the huge hall suddenly resounded with a church-like sonorousness.
“Here, perhaps, is your friend in blue,” said Pageot, indicating a lady who was one of the first to come out.
Mme. Chambannes hurried to stop Mme. de Marquesse, who exclaimed:
“You!... Well, I cannot say you are early! Yet I only came here to please you!”
“A letter I was expecting from Gerald,” apologized her friend. “l tell you about it later.... I was quite upset, I assure you.... Well, tell me, was it at least all right inside there? Was it worth the trouble?... Did he speak of Cleopatra?... Was he very shocking?”
Mme. de Marquesse assumed a roguish expression.
“I do know.... You are asking too much.... I am like the little girl in the play.... I saw nothing, I heard nothing.... Standing, with rows of men in front of me and the smell of perspiration!... I wo be caught again.... Or else I shall send my footman to book my seats in good time....”
“How dreadful!”
“Oh, well, it might have been worse,” replied Mme. de Marquesse protectively.... “Goodness gracious! What a child you are, little Zozé! Here or elsewhere you will meet M. Raindal again.... There is nothing lost.... And all this because M. de Meuze turned your head with his blarney!...”
“This has nothing to do with M. de Meuze!”