“That’s just what I wanted to know, whether we are dead to each other....”
“Dead, dead, quite dead!” she cried, vehemently.
He laughed:
“Come, don’t be so theatrical. You can understand that I was curious to see you again and talk to you. I used to see you in the street, in your carriage, on the Jetée; and I was pleased to find you looking so well, so smart, so happy and so handsome. You know that good-looking women are my great hobby. You are much better-looking than you used to be when you were my wife. If you had been then what you are now, I should never have allowed you to divorce me.... Come, don’t be a child. No one knows here. I think it damned jolly to meet you here, to have a good old yarn with you and to have you leaning on my arm. Take my arm. Don’t make a fuss and I’ll take you where you want to go. Where shall we find Mrs. Uxeley? Introduce me ... as a friend from Holland....”
“Rudolph....”
“Oh, I insist: don’t bother! There’s nothing in it! It amuses me and it’s no end of a lark to walk about with one’s divorced wife at a ball at Nice. A delightful town, isn’t it? I go to Monte Carlo every day and I’ve been damned lucky. Won three thousand francs yesterday. Will you come with me one day?”
“You’re mad!”
“I’m not mad at all. I want to enjoy myself. And I’m proud to have you on my arm.”
She withdrew her arm:
“Well, you needn’t be.”