“Everything shall be done as you suggest.”
I guessed at once that the marquis wanted to have a taste of Zenobia; but this seemed to me so natural that, far from being angry, I felt disposed to do all in my power to favour his plans. Live and let live has always been my maxim, and it will be so to my dying day, though now I do but live a life of memories.
As soon as I was dressed I went out, and having told the pastrycook to consider the gentleman who was coming as myself, I called on the tailor, who was delighted at my getting his wife work. He knew by experience that she was none the worse for these little absences.
“I don’t want you,” said I to the tailor, “as it is only women’s dresses that have to be done. My good gossip here will be sufficient.”
“At three o’clock she may go, and I shall not expect to see her again for three days.”
After I had dined I called as usual on the fair marchioness, and found her in a transport of delight. Her lottery ticket had got her five hundred sequins.
“And that makes you happy, does it?” said I.
“It does, not because of the gain in money, though I am by no means rich, but for the beauty of the idea and for the thought that I owe it all to you. These two things speak volumes in your favour.”
“What do they say?”
“That you deserve to be loved.”