He passed before her, replying with a smile, but without appearing to have understood her, and disappeared in another salon, while Lissac said to Adrienne:
"What about the ministry, madame?"
"Oh! don't speak to me of it!—it frightens me. In those rooms, it seems to me that I am not at home. Do you know just what I feel? I fancy myself travelling, never, however, leaving the house. Ministers certainly should be bachelors. Men have all the honor, but their wives endure all the weariness."
"There must, however, be at the bottom of this weariness, some pleasure, since they so bitterly regret to take leave of it."
"Ah! Dieu!" said Adrienne. "Already I believe that I should regret nothing. No, I assure you, nothing whatever."
She, too, might have desired,—as Vaudrey did formerly—to leave the soirée, to be with her husband again, and she thought that Sulpice found it necessary to remain longer, since he had not definitely decided on going away.
The new salon that he entered, communicated with a smaller, circular one, hung with Japanese silk draperies, and lighted by a Venetian chandelier that cast a subdued light over the divans upon which some of the guests sat chatting. Sulpice immediately divined, as if by instinct, that Marianne was there. He went straight in that direction, and as he entered the doorway, through the opening framed by two pale blue portières, he saw in front of him, sitting side by side, the pretty girl and the Duc de Rosas to whom she had listened so attentively, almost devotedly, a little earlier; he recalled this now.
The light fell directly on Mademoiselle Kayser's shoulders and played over her fair hair. The duke was looking at her.
Vaudrey took but a single step forward.
He experienced an altogether curious and inexplicable sensation. This tête-à-tête displeased him.