“I place my honor with all confidence in your Excellency’s hands,” said Rabourdin gravely, “and I entreat you to remember that you have not allowed me time to give you an immediate explanation of the stolen paper—”
“Don’t be uneasy,” said des Lupeaulx, interposing between the minister and Rabourdin, whom he thus interrupted; “in another week you will probably be appointed—”
The minister smiled as he thought of des Lupeaulx’s enthusiasm for Madame Rabourdin, and he glanced knowingly at his wife. Rabourdin saw the look, and tried to imagine its meaning; his attention was diverted for a moment, and his Excellency took advantage of the fact to make his escape.
“We will talk of all this, you and I,” said des Lupeaulx, with whom Rabourdin, much to his surprise, now found himself alone. “Don’t be angry with Dutocq; I’ll answer for his discretion.”
“Madame Rabourdin is charming,” said the minister’s wife, wishing to say the civil thing to the head of a bureau.
The children all gazed at Rabourdin with curiosity. The poor man had come there expecting some serious, even solemn, result, and he was like a great fish caught in the threads of a flimsy net; he struggled with himself.
“Madame la comtesse is very good,” he said.
“Shall I not have the pleasure of seeing Madame here some Wednesday?” said the countess. “Pray bring her; it will give me pleasure.”
“Madame Rabourdin herself receives on Wednesdays,” interrupted des Lupeaulx, who knew the empty civility of an invitation to the official Wednesdays; “but since you are so kind as to wish for her, you will soon give one of your private parties, and—”
The countess rose with some irritation.