"You are absent-minded, aren't you, monsieur?"
"It should not be possible with you, madame."
This compliment changed the current of my pretty brunette's thoughts, and fully restored her amiability.—Oh! flattery! It is like calumny—some trace of it always remains.
"Your gallantry, monsieur, cannot prevent my thinking that you are absent-minded. Still, you may have reasons for not choosing to answer the questions I asked you."
"Well, madame, it is true, I have reasons—very strong ones, indeed."
"I understand."
Sapristi! she was very lucky to understand; for my part, I confess that that conversation made me much more uncomfortable than I had anticipated; for I was most anxious not to appear a lunatic in the eyes of that partner of mine, who seemed prettier to me every minute. There are people who gain by being looked at, at close range; they are not numerous, but my partner was one of them. And I was terribly afraid that my incoherent replies would give her a very contemptuous opinion of me.
"There goes Monsieur Archibald," she continued, after a moment, "trying to crush somebody else's foot; the way he capers about is perfectly horrible; I will never dance near him."
I did not know where she saw Monsieur Archibald, so I smiled without raising my eyes.
"Of course, you know the lady he is dancing with at this moment?"