We did full justice to Raymond’s dinner; it was dainty and toothsome. In a quiet moment, I asked Agathe to tell me how it happened that she had come there to dine in a private room with my neighbor, whom she did not like at all.
“I did it to have a better chance to make fun of him,” she replied. “Ever since the day we waited on your landing to see your little flower girl, Raymond has been pleased to make love to me. He pesters me with his declarations and his billets-doux, which I receive just to show them to the girls in the shop; and they make a lot of sport for us, for his style’s as ridiculous as his person. He had asked me twenty times for an assignation, when I happened to meet him to-day near Porte Saint-Denis. I was just going home; I had been to Gerville’s, but didn’t find him. Raymond urged me, begged me, to dine with him at a restaurant. I refused at first; but the temptation to make a fool of him, to laugh at his expense, in short, to have some sport, led me to change my mind. Besides, you know what a heedless creature I am. I didn’t expect to meet Gerville, for whom I care very little, however. So I accepted, and allowed myself to be conducted to a private room by poor Raymond, who believed that his triumph was assured, whereas I never had the slightest intention of granting him any favors.”
“Here’s to his health!”
“With all my heart.”
“Is this the coup de milieu?”
“One moment! how fast you go! we haven’t got to it yet. This vol-au-vent is delicious, and so is this filet sauté, with madeira and truffles.”
“And this salmi of partridges, also with truffles. Ah! poor Raymond! do you see his game? he ordered truffles in everything!”
The waitress arrived with the rum and the next course.
“Good Lord!” exclaimed Agathe; “truffles with champagne sauce! why, he’ll kill us with ’em! What is our neighbor eating?”
“Chicken, with rice, madame.”