"If monsieur would tell me his name, I would tell my master."
"No; bless my soul, no! I want to surprise him; don't say anything to him about it."
Cherami returned to his Hôtel du Bel-Air, saying to himself:
"Gustave doesn't choose to fight with his rival, but I'll wager that it's from some lingering feeling of delicacy, of kindness for that little sinner of a Fanny! He says to himself: 'Let her be a countess, if that will make her happy.'—Infernal nonsense, I call it. And as I have no reason for being agreeable to that lady, I trust that I shall be able to prevent her putting this new affront on my young friend."
The next day, having dressed himself with care, Cherami took the Paris omnibus and exchanged into one for the Madeleine; at half-past ten, he arrived at the Comte de la Bérinière's door, recognized the footman of the preceding day, and said to him:
"Here I am; take me in to your master."
"Monsieur le comte is still in bed."
"Very well! wake him."
"He's awake, for he has already had his chocolate."
"As he's awake, there's no need of his getting up to receive me; I can talk with him perfectly well in bed. Go and tell him that an old friend of his wishes to see him."