The young woman started; her cheeks became pale, and in a sharp tone she answered:
“Why don’t you ask your wife?”
Serge smiled.
“You or nobody.”
Jeanne raised her eyes boldly, and looking at him in the face, said, defiantly:
“Well, then, nobody!”
And, rising, she took the arm of Cayrol, who was advancing toward her.
The Prince remained motionless for a moment, following them with his eyes. Then, seeing his wife alone with Madame Desvarennes, he went out on the terrace. Already the couples were dancing on the polished marble. Joyful bursts of laughter rose in the perfumed air that sweet March night. A deep sorrow came over Serge; an intense disgust with all things. The sea sparkled, lit up by the moon. He had a mad longing to seize Jeanne in his arms and carry her far away from the world, across that immense calm space which seemed made expressly to rock sweetly eternal loves.