The old millionaire’s selfishness had to give way to his duties as a lover. The Baron suffered but stayed.
Esther had her own reasons for detaining “her man.” If she admitted her acquaintance, she would be less closely questioned in his presence than if she were alone. Philippe Bridau hurried back to the box where the dancers were sitting, and informed them of the state of affairs.
“Oh! so it is she who has fallen heir to my house in the Rue Saint-Georges,” observed Madame du Val-Noble with some bitterness; for she, as she phrased it, was on the loose.
“Most likely,” said the Colonel. “Du Tillet told me that the Baron had spent three times as much there as your poor Falleix.”
“Let us go round to her box,” said Tullia.
“Not if I know it,” said Mariette; “she is much too handsome, I will call on her at home.”
“I think myself good-looking enough to risk it,” remarked Tullia.
So the much-daring leading dancer went round between the acts and renewed acquaintance with Esther, who would talk only on general subjects.
“And where have you come back from, my dear child?” asked Tullia, who could not restrain her curiosity.
“Oh, I was for five years in a castle in the Alps with an Englishman, as jealous as a tiger, a nabob; I called him a nabot, a dwarf, for he was not so big as le bailli de Ferrette.