Now that he had seen Fanny again, that she had talked with him as pleasantly as before her marriage, and had urged him to call upon her, Gustave did not know what to believe, what to think, what to conjecture, from it all. He asked himself why she wanted to see him. Whether it was because she still felt some affection for him, whether she derived any pleasure from his presence, whether she sympathized secretly with his grief; or was it simply for the purpose of flaunting in his face her brilliant social position, her superb gowns, and the homage that was paid to her?
Gustave walked a long time at random on the boulevard, where he met very few people, on account of the cold.
"No," he said to himself; "I will not go to her house! Have I courage to be a witness of her husband's happiness? Moreover, her husband hasn't invited me; it seems to me that he is sure to receive me very coldly. That's what I would do in his place. But Fanny didn't think of what she was saying; she invited me thoughtlessly—or else from simple courtesy. Ah! she is very pretty still; she's a hundred times more fascinating than ever! I did very wrong to go to Monsieur Gerbault's!"
Suddenly the melancholy lover was roused from his reflections by someone who threw his arms about him, embraced him, and kissed him on the cheek, crying:
"Ah! here he is! it is he! At last I have found him—my dear, good Gustave! Victory! Castor has found Pollux! I have my cue!
"'And since I've found my faithful friend,
My luck will take a different trend!'"
Gustave struggled to free himself, in order to see the face of the individual who was so lavish of tokens of affection, and he finally recognized his impromptu friend of Fanny's wedding day, the man with whom he had dined at Deffieux's.
Cherami was the same as always. But his costume seemed even shabbier in the cold weather then prevailing than in summer; for his frock-coat, more threadbare than ever, was drawn so tightly across his shoulders that one could see that there was nothing under it; his plaid trousers, worn thinner than ever, evidently afforded his legs very little protection against the sharp north wind; and the Courbichon hat, by dint of being planted on the side of his head, was beginning to resemble the one it had replaced. But all this did not prevent the ci-devant Beau Arthur from holding himself erect and eying everybody he met from top to toe.
"Why, it is Monsieur——"
"Arthur Cherami. Yes, my dear fellow; it is I, your faithful friend, your Pylades, who has been seeking you over hill and dale, and who even called to inquire for you at your uncle's,—Grandcourt, the banker,—who, I am bound to say, did not receive me with all the consideration I deserve! But uncles are not very amiable, as a general rule. He told me that you were in Spain."