I did not understand him. I looked at the flowers in the vases, and said:
"There's nothing prettier and more ornamental than flowers! What a pity that they are perfect poison in a bedroom!"
The baron opened his eyes even wider than usual, and looked all about; I am not sure that he did not stoop to look under the bed. Then he rejoined:
"I see no poisson [fish] in te room."
Luckily, Madame Dauberny's return put an end to this interview, in which I found little amusement.
At sight of Frédérique, a cry of admiration escaped the baron and myself. She had put on an ample robe de chambre, of blue cashmere, caught in at the waist by a girdle of orange silk. The gown was buttoned to the neck, about which was a narrow white silk cravat, carelessly tied. Her feet were encased in fascinating orange slippers, studded with steel beads. Lastly, on her hair, which she had arranged in haste, in a bandeau on one side, and on the other in long curls, she had placed a small blue velvet toque, with an enormous silver tassel, which hung down on the same side as the curls and seemed to intensify their brilliancy.
It is impossible to describe the charm which that négligé costume imparted to its wearer. Her figure was so gracefully outlined by the folds of the cashmere, her unique headdress gave so much expression to her features, that the baron and I remained under the spell and could not tire of gazing at her.
"Here I am," said Frédérique, with a smile. "As you see, I take the liberty of supping in a robe de chambre."
"Ah! how loafely you pe so!" murmured the baron, passing his right hand over his face as he spoke, kissing it, and throwing kisses to the ceiling.
"All right, all right, my dear baron! As I have told you, I can understand you without pantomime; so you may spare yourself so much extravagance of gesture.—Let us toast ourselves, messieurs, while we are waiting for our supper."