I could not help laughing with her. Oho! so I had the aspect of a person who had forgotten his handkerchief. In truth, a man who is without that useful article is apt to have an anxious, unhappy look; yes, my partner had thought of something perfectly consistent with the contortions I must have been guilty of while she was talking to me. But, to prove to her that she was mistaken, I drew my handkerchief and blew my nose, although I had no desire to do so.
My partner made a charming little grimace, and said:
"I trust, monsieur, that you will not bear me a grudge for that jest?"
"Far from it, madame; indeed, it proves to me that you are a skilful reader of countenances."
"Ah! monsieur, that is very unkind of you!"
"No, madame, for you guessed that I was much preoccupied, and you were not mistaken; but the cause is much more serious than you supposed."
"Really? And will you tell me what it is?—that is to say, if I am not impertinent to ask you."
"Oh! I should be very glad to confide it to you; but I dare not."
"Why not, pray?"
"Because I am afraid that you would blame me; and I should be so sorry to incur your displeasure."