“She is really very nice, this woman,” thought Charles Grandet as he duly responded to Madame des Grassins’ coquetries.
“It seems to me, wife, that you are taking possession of monsieur,” said the stout banker, laughing.
On this remark the notary and the president said a few words that were more or less significant; but the abbe, looking at them slyly, brought their thoughts to a focus by taking a pinch of snuff and saying as he handed round his snuff-box: “Who can do the honors of Saumur for monsieur so well as madame?”
“Ah! what do you mean by that, monsieur l’abbe?” demanded Monsieur des Grassins.
“I mean it in the best possible sense for you, for madame, for the town of Saumur, and for monsieur,” said the wily old man, turning to Charles.
The Abbe Cruchot had guessed the conversation between Charles and Madame des Grassins without seeming to pay attention to it.
“Monsieur,” said Adolphe to Charles with an air which he tried to make free and easy, “I don’t know whether you remember me, but I had the honor of dancing as your vis-a-vis at a ball given by the Baron de Nucingen, and—”
“Perfectly; I remember perfectly, monsieur,” answered Charles, pleased to find himself the object of general attention.
“Monsieur is your son?” he said to Madame des Grassins.
The abbe looked at her maliciously.