“Well, do you want me to make him come and tell you that he will not take you home from here to-night.”
“If you can make him tell me that,” said Florine, “I’ll take you home, and we’ll look for those letters, which I shall believe in when I see them, and not till then. He must have written them while I slept.”
“Stay here,” said Felix, “and watch.”
So saying, he took the arm of his wife and moved to a little distance. Presently, Nathan, who had been hunting up and down the foyer like a dog looking for its master, returned to the spot where the mask had addressed him. Seeing on his face an expression he could not conceal, Florine placed herself like a post in front of him, and said, imperiously:—
“I don’t wish you to leave me again; I have my reasons for this.”
The countess then, at the instigation of her husband, went up to Raoul and said in his ear,—
“Marie. Who is this woman? Leave her at once, and meet me at the foot of the grand staircase.”
In this difficult extremity Raoul dropped Florine’s arm, and though she caught his own and held it forcibly, she was obliged, after a moment, to let him go. Nathan disappeared into the crowd.
“What did I tell you?” said Felix in Florine’s astonished ears, offering her his arm.
“Come,” she said; “whoever you are, come. Have you a carriage here?”