"And you'll take care that your friend don't come and disturb us; if she does, I'll make a scene with her. I'm very jealous, let me tell you. You love me, don't you? Ah! you've made me tipsy, you see, and I don't know what I'm saying."
I reassured Rosette and left her on Faubourg Saint-Denis, where she had finally decided to go. She was a very attractive girl, her conversation was amusing, and her person most alluring. But I was sorry that she had a tent pitched in every quarter of Paris; one could never be sure where she had gone into camp.
XXXVI
A SCENE
I had known Rosette a month, and thus far had had no reason to repent. I had observed, to be sure, that the young woman did not always tell me the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth; but, after all, a lover should not act toward his mistress in the capacity of a juryman. Moreover, Rosette herself had told me, in a moment of effusiveness, that she lied a great deal and lied very well. It seemed to me that, after that, I was not justified in losing my temper when she told me a falsehood; for she might reply:
"I gave you fair warning!"
I often took Rosette to dine in a private dining-room. Knowing as I did what justice she could do to a hearty meal, it would really have been a pity not to give her an opportunity for practice; and as I myself am endowed with a lusty appetite, our little parties always afforded us pleasure: when love went to sleep, the stomach woke, and vice versa.
Rosette came to my rooms once or twice a week, and sometimes unheralded. When I was absent, she went into my chamber; I had told Pomponne that she was to be admitted at any time. When she had come and failed to find me, I always discovered it instantly, for she turned everything in the apartment topsy-turvy. She tossed about papers, books, combs, brushes, and soap; looked through all the drawers, and left nothing in its place; even the chairs I always found in the middle of the room.
"Couldn't you have put my room to rights a little?" I would say to Pomponne.
And Monsieur Pomponne would reply, with his sly smile:
"It was Mademoiselle Rosette who arranged monsieur's bedroom like that; I shouldn't venture to touch anything."