And Cherami jumped to his feet, put his hat on his head, took his little cane, and rushed from the room. When he was in the corridor, he lurched against the wall more than once; but, with the instinct of a man accustomed to frequent over-indulgence, he drew himself up and steadied himself on his legs.
"What does this mean?" he said.—"You stumble for a glass or two of punch? Come, come, Arthur, I shouldn't know you, my boy; you're not drunk, you can't be drunk."
Thereupon the mind steadied the body, and he walked to the stairway with a somewhat less uncertain step. There he could plainly hear the orchestra of the elegant Monléard ball. He paused a moment, saying to himself:
"Suppose I should enter abruptly, and make a scene with the perfidious Fanny, in behalf of my young friend Gustave—what a stunning coup! what an effect I would produce!—Yes, but those people don't know me; they don't know that I once had thirty-five thousand francs a year, and that I have been the most popular man in Paris. They would be quite capable of treating me as an intruder! I should talk back—and then, duels! Let's not end in sadness a day so well employed. Dies fasti, as the Romans used to say. It's surprising how the punch brings back my Latin! Let's go up a floor, and join the Blanquette wedding party; there, at all events, I know the bridegroom slightly, and the uncle very well. I owe him four or five hundred francs for cloth—an additional reason why he should receive me well; a man never closes his door to his debtors."
Having arrived on the second floor, Cherami heard the strains of another orchestra; he passed through a large room where he saw nothing but men's hats hanging on hooks, and immediately hung up his own and placed his cane beside it.
"I must show my breeding," he said to himself; "one doesn't appear at a wedding party as at a messroom. Ah! what do I see in that corner? a very fine yellow glove, on my word! Pardieu! it arrives most opportunely! It's for the left hand, but, no matter: I can keep the other in my pocket. It fits me, it really fits me beautifully! What a pity that the man who dropped it didn't drop the right-hand one too! No matter; this one gives a sort of dressed-up, coquettish air, which sets off the wearer. I will keep my right hand under the tail of my coat—nay, I will skilfully hold both tails in my hand, and people will think I'm in full dress. Forward, charge their guns!"
Cherami passed into a second room, which was occupied by card-players: there were two tables of whist and one of écarté. With the exception of two elderly women at one of the whist tables, there were only men in the room; and as they were all busily engaged in playing, or watching the play, nobody noticed the arrival of the party in plaid trousers.
Cherami smiled at everybody, although he saw no one whom he knew; there were very few persons about the whist tables—only one or two enthusiasts watching the games—so that one could easily approach them. It was not the same with the écarté table; there was a crowd of young men about it, and it was very difficult to see their hands.
Cherami walked about for some minutes, daintily scratching the end of his nose with his gloved hand, and holding the other behind his back, under the skirt of his coat. Suddenly one of the players cried:
"Twenty francs lacking! Come, gentlemen; who'll make it good?"