I sat down beside her; I was pleased to see that she was not annoyed at the desertion of her little court.
“So you don’t do like the rest?” she said with a smile; “you don’t go to offer incense to the strangers?”
“I have no inclination to do so; why should one change when one is well off?”
“That often happens, however.”
“Alas, yes! but apparently it may be that one is well off and does not realize it.”
“I trust that I shall never have the experience.”
I do not know how it happened that at that moment Caroline’s hand was under mine. She did not take it away, and we sat thus for a long while, paying no heed to what was taking place in the salon. But the touch of that hand reminded me of Eugénie and of the time when I was paying court to her. Doubtless Caroline had no suspicion that the pressure of her hand made me think of another woman, and that it was that which made me pensive. But we very often deceive ourselves with respect to the sensations which we arouse. And the thing which flatters our self-esteem would sometimes cause us naught but vexation if we knew its real cause.
Suddenly the door of the salon was noisily opened and someone entered, talking very loud and making a great uproar. I turned, for whenever anyone entered the salon, I felt a thrill of uneasiness.
“This is the gentleman from Paris, no doubt,” said Caroline.
I looked at the newcomer, who was just saluting the company; it was Bélan!