"Ve talk of pizness. As I haf come to France mit der ambassador, he haf question me of bolitics, of te gufernment, of many serious subjects. He pe a brovound man, he haf alvays agree mit me."
Frédérique seemed to be lost in thought.
"And this was only the second time that you had been to Monsieur Sordeville's?" she asked, after a moment.
"Ja! id vas te second time. I haf met te monsir at te house of Montame de Granvallon, vere I haf had te bleazure to meet mit you."
"And you did not know Monsieur Sordeville before?"
"Not at all; but he make agwaindance so easy, he vas sehr amiable; his vife, as he tell me, she haf peen much frent mit you."
"Yes, Armantine and I were at the same boarding school; we were friends. I left the school long before she did; I refused to learn to do anything except fence and ride, and those things were just what they didn't teach there. I would have liked to go to the Polytechnic, and then to Saint-Cyr; to be a soldier, in fact. I held up to my parents the precedent of the Chevalier d'Éon, who, although a woman, was cunning enough to lead a man's life for years. But they declared that it would be too great a risk. Parents constantly thwart their children's inclinations like that.—When I met Armantine again, she was married, and we renewed our old friendship. She is good-humored, merry, a little inclined to be capricious, a great flirt, but good at heart. As for her husband—in my opinion, he pays too little attention to his wife; he gives her too much liberty. I don't say that she abuses it, but, you see, you gentlemen are sometimes very gallant, very adventurous! And when the husband is never on the spot, why, it's his own fault if anything happens to him."
"What is this Monsieur Sordeville's business?" I asked Frédérique. She did not answer for some time, but at last she said:
"I thought that you knew him?"
"From having met him two or three times at a house where they give balls and play cards. He talked with me, more or less; he doesn't lack intelligence, he talks well, and possesses the much rarer gift of making others talk. We see so many people in society whose conversational powers consist in interrupting one at every instant, and who do not understand that one may have something better to do than listen to them. I had some talk with Monsieur Sordeville, as I say; and then I met him again at that wedding party, where you were so kind to me, and where he invited me to his house. But I did not dream of asking him what his profession was. Indeed, if he is rich, he is justified in having none."