"May I know?"
"No, it does not interest you. A family affair."
"Ah! your uncle?" asked Vaudrey, smiling.
"My uncle, yes!"
"He has asked that he be permitted to exhibit at the Trocadero the cartoons that he has finished: The Artist's Mission, Hydropathy the Civilizer, I don't know what in fact, a series of symbolical compositions—"
"With the mirliton device underneath?—Yes, I know," said Marianne.
She snapped her fingers in her impatience.
The letter that she had torn up had been written by Rosas, and received by Uncle Kayser at his studio, whence he had forwarded it to his niece. The duke informed Marianne that he would wait for her at five o'clock at Avenue Montaigne. He had something to say to her. He had passed the entire night reflecting and dreaming. She remembered her own wild dreams. Had Rosas then caught her thought floating like an atom on the night wind?
At five o'clock! She would be punctual. But how escape Vaudrey? She could not now feign sickness since she had received him! Moreover, he would instal himself near her and bombard her with his attentions. Was there any possible pretext, any way of getting out now? Her lover had the devoted, radiant look of a loved man who relied on enjoying a long interview with his mistress. He looked at her with a tender glance.
"The fool—The sticker!" thought Marianne. "He will not leave!"