“She has ceased to be kind.”
“I understand she has treated you cruelly, and you call that pity, do you? You are mistaken.”
“Certainly,” said Madame F——, “a woman may pity the man she loves, but she would not think of ill-treating him to cure him of his passion. That woman has never felt any love for you.”
“I cannot, I will not believe it, madam.”
“But are you cured?”
“Oh! thoroughly; for when I happen to think of her, I feel nothing but indifference and coldness. But my recovery was long.”
“Your convalescence lasted, I suppose, until you fell in love with another.”
“With another, madam? I thought I had just told you that the third time I loved was the last.”
A few days after that conversation, M. D—— R—— told me that Madame F—— was not well, that he could not keep her company, and that I ought to go to her, as he was sure she would be glad to see me. I obeyed, and told Madame F—— what M. D—— R—— had said. She was lying on a sofa. Without looking at me, she told me she was feverish, and would not ask me to remain with her, because I would feel weary.
“I could not experience any weariness in your society, madam; at all events, I can leave you only by your express command, and, in that case, I must spend the next four hours in your ante-room, for M. D— R—— has told me to wait for him here.”