"Oh! That I fancy is pretty much the case with everyone. But, putting myself out of the question, do I love anything on earth better than my wife?"
"Her diamonds."
"Oh!" said the Count. The Marquis, I could see, laughed.
"Is it true," said the Count, changing the conversation peremptorily, "that there has been a battle in Naples?"
"No; in France."
"Indeed," said the Count, satirically, with a glance round.
"And may I inquire between what powers, and on what particular quarrel?"
"Between the Count and Countess de St. Alyre, and about a document they subscribed on the 25th July, 1811."
The Marquis afterwards told me that this was the date of their marriage settlement.
The Count stood stock-still for a minute or so; and one could fancy that they saw his face flushing through his mask.