The fair Sainte-Suzanne threw herself back on the couch with a mocking laugh. Our widower, disquieted by that laugh, waited until it subsided before he said timidly:
"Don't you think that a neat income?"
"Oh, no! frankly, it isn't neat enough for me. I have ten thousand francs a year, and I would not accept any man for a husband who did not bring me at least twice that. I am fully decided as to that. Let us forget this nonsense, my dear Monsieur Chamoureau; let us think no more about your love, which is not old enough to have taken very deep root yet; but come to see me sometimes as a friend. In that capacity, I shall be glad to receive you, but, you understand, only as a friend."
"Forget my love! Ah! fascinating woman! Why, you do not know that you have bewitched me, that you have turned my head, that I fairly dote on you! You do not know——"
"I beg pardon, Monsieur Chamoureau, but I do know that I have visits to pay to-day, and that it is time for me to think about dressing. Permit me therefore to bid you adieu."
Sorely vexed to be thus summarily dismissed, Chamoureau rose, grasped the seat of his trousers with his left hand, took his hat in his right hand, bowed very slightly, so that his coat might not split more, and walked out backwards.
But once outside, he pulled his hat over his ears, muttering:
"Much satisfaction there is in spending money for this! Oh! these women!—And I have got to take a cab again!"
XII
AGATHE'S PARENTS
Honorine Dalmont, with her young friend Agathe, occupied a modest apartment on Rue des Martyrs. Their only servant was a woman who came in to do their housework, and went away again after preparing their dinner.