At last, the duet being at an end, Adolphine declared that she was tired, and left the piano.
"I can well believe that she's tired!" said Monsieur de la Bérinière; "she might well be, for less than that. To play that fellow's accompaniments—to sing with him! what a wicked task!"
"I have won, monsieur le comte!"
"Very good! give me my revenge. I can pay more attention to the game, now that I don't hear that hissing voice; he's a veritable serpent, is that young man."
But Monsieur de Raincy had seated himself beside Adolphine, and he talked to her while the others played. Naturally, they spoke in undertones, in order not to disturb the players. This conversation, of which he could not catch a single word, seemed to annoy the count even more than the music; and Batonnin made the most of his opponent's distraction and misplays, while saying to him in a wheedling tone:
"Monsieur le comte isn't in luck to-night.—I declare a sequence!"
"It's true, I am absent-minded.—Well, Mademoiselle Adolphine, have you stopped singing?"
"Oh! no, monsieur; I am resting."
"For heaven's sake, take care," said Batonnin; "you'll suggest to that young man the idea of beginning again!"
"Why, no; I am talking to Mademoiselle Gerbault. I am sure that Monsieur de Raincy is boring her at this moment. I would like to rid her of him."