“Ah! I was sure of it,” cried the old lady evidently enchanted. “One always sleeps well in that room. Tell us your dreams, Monsieur Nivières.”
“They were very confused; still I think I can remember a lady.”
“Only one?”
“Perhaps two!”
“Perhaps three also?” said Madame d’Ionis, smiling.
“Precisely, madame, you remind me that they were three!”
“Pretty?” said the triumphant dowager.
“Rather pretty, but somewhat faded.”
“Really?” said Madame d’Ionis, who seemed to communicate through her eyes with Zéphyrine (who was seated at the lower end of the table), in order to answer me. “And what did they say to you?”
“Incomprehensible things. But if it interests madame, the dowager Countess, I will do my utmost to remember.”