XV
THE DINNER PARTY
I was still sleeping when Madame Dupont came to arrange my room. I began at once to question her, for I was anxious to know if she had seen Nicette.
“Did anyone call to see me last evening, Madame Dupont?”
“No, monsieur; no one.”
“You saw no one come upstairs to my rooms?”
“You know very well, monsieur, that I wouldn’t have let anybody come up, knowing that you were out.”
It was very strange! how had she succeeded in eluding the concierge’s eyes? She was determined that no one should see her bringing the nosegay; she thought that it might offend me, and her gift acquired the greater value in my eyes on that account. To divert my mind from such thoughts, I recalled the errands my brother-in-law desired me to do. I went out, leaving Madame Dupont to place in a box all the artificial flowers that were strewn about my floor; but I told her not to touch the bouquet, which was on the mantel. It was a fertile source of conjectures for my concierge.
My day was fully occupied by the commissions to be executed in various government offices, whence Déneterre, who was about to build and desired to consummate various enterprises, hoped to obtain information and support. I was not sorry to have something to do; the time passed more rapidly. Do not believe, however, that I was accustomed to spend my days in absolute idleness; no, I was devoted to the fine arts, especially poetry and music; and I turned my attention to them with ardor, when my love-making folly left me the requisite leisure; but I admit that I had neglected them shamefully for some time past.
It was time to think about dinner. I did not forget that I had an appointment for the evening on Boulevard Bondy, near the Château d’Eau. In order to be in the neighborhood, I thought that, instead of dining at the Palais-Royal as usual, it would be an excellent idea to dine on the boulevards, where the small theatres are; then I should be close at hand for the evening. I bent my steps, therefore, toward the Marais.
When I was on Boulevard du Temple, I had only too great a number of restaurants to choose from. I knew them all; I was not en partie fine; so that I had no occasion to think of anything except which was the best, without looking about for the most convenient and most secluded private dining rooms. I decided in favor of the Cadran-Bleu; the prices were high there, but ordinarily one could get a good dinner. I walked in that direction and was just passing the Jardin Turc, when I saw a gentleman in front of me with a lady on his arm. Raymond’s figure was too easily recognizable for me to mistake it. It was certainly he: his gait, his huge calves, his gestures—yes, it was he. As for the lady, her face was hidden under an enormous bonnet; but it seemed to me that I knew her as well. My neighbor was talking with great earnestness, and I noticed that he pressed her arm to his side; he had every appearance of being en bonne fortune. I was curious to know where they were going; and I was determined to obtain a glimpse, if possible, of the charmer’s face, unseen by Raymond; for, as I have said, her figure was not unfamiliar to me. But they crossed the boulevard and entered a restaurant on the corner of Rue d’Angoulême—the Méridien; I remembered that the waiters there were young women, and that it was a very comfortable place; at least, it was so some years before. Why should I not follow my neighbor? Perhaps chance would give me a glimpse of his companion; and Raymond does so much boasting about his mistresses, who, according to him, are always princesses and of rare beauty, that I was not sorry to have an opportunity to see one of those marvels of creation.