“It is true that Madame Firmin is here and that I have been to say good-evening to her.”
“How pleasant it is for me to be at a party with that woman!”
“I give you my word that, if I had known that she was to be here to-night, I would not have urged you to come.”
“Oh! I believe you! but you need not let that embarrass you, monsieur. Ah! that is she, no doubt, just passing with her Monsieur Ernest. What an ordinary face! anyone could see what she is. But pray go, monsieur; perhaps she wants to speak to you. She is staring at me, I believe, the impertinent creature! I beg you, monsieur, at least to forbid her to look at me in that way.”
I was on the rack; Ernest and Marguerite had passed very close to us, and I trembled lest they had heard Eugénie. I walked away and took a seat at an écarté table, where I remained for more than an hour.
When I returned to the ballroom, I passed Madame Ernest. She looked at me and smiled; evidently she had not overheard my wife; I walked toward her, for I had made up my mind, and I was no longer disturbed about what people might think.
“Do you not dance, Monsieur Blémont?”
“Not often.”
“I have seen your wife; she is very pretty, but she has rather a serious expression. Is she always like that?”
“No, she has a headache.”