“Did you tell her of Célestin?”
“No, of course I did not; I am not that sort of person. I never talk of one woman before another. Go on dressing.”
“And I suppose you will end by marrying the beautiful American, when you are famous?”
“I will never marry anyone but Célestin. She is the only woman I have ever loved.”
“But, mon Dieu! you are not going to marry her?”
“No; I would if she wanted to, but she doesn’t. A priest mumbling over us will not make us love each other any more. Don’t put on that awful green necktie, for goodness’ sake; take that plaid one, it looks better.”
“And you are going to start your ménage to-morrow?” asked Gaillard, putting on the desired necktie carefully before the glass.
“Yes, and that is what I am going to start on.”
He held out three bank-notes for a thousand francs each.
“It won’t last you a month.”