“Won’t I!”
“I will introduce you to my wife.”
“I shall be enchanted to make her acquaintance.”
Raymond accompanied me home; he seemed delighted by the cordiality of my greeting, especially as it was so unusual. He did not suspect that my eager desire to talk with him was due to the fact that he alone could tell me about Nicette, where she was and what she was doing. But I felt that I must be prudent and not question him too abruptly; otherwise, he would divine my sentiments, and it was more necessary than ever that I should force them back into the depths of my heart.
When we reached the house, I found that my wife was not anxious about me, for she was breakfasting without me. I presented Raymond, who confounded himself in compliments and high-flown praise which must have bored Pélagie; but women of little intellect often attach the greatest value to compliments; with such women one can make one’s self most agreeable with commonplace remarks, and in that respect Raymond was well endowed.
The conversation, therefore, was confined to the pleasures of Paris, and the sensation that such a woman as my wife must cause in society; for Raymond always came back to that; he could not understand how a woman who had always lived in the provinces could be so pretty and have such distinguished manners; he was inexhaustible, but I breakfasted without listening to him. As for Pélagie, having learned that she might smile at another man than her husband, she smiled at each of Raymond’s compliments, which gave her a chance to show her teeth.
I saw that I could not mention Nicette that morning; my wife did not leave the room; so I must needs be patient.
“Where do you live?” I asked Raymond.
“Rue Pinon, No. 2. I have left my old lodgings; you had ceased to be my neighbor, and they had lost all their charm.”
“I mean to come to see you.”