Edmond Didier was, in fact, coming toward them; he was still looking for his little débardeur. Mademoiselle Amélia ran to him and seized his arm, saying:
"I'm not angry any more, dear boy; I love you more than ever, and I'll go to supper with you. You're glad of that, aren't you?"
The young man, thunderstruck by the sudden change that had taken place in the grisette's humor, stared at her and tried to read in her eyes whether she really meant what she said.
But she continued:
"You're surprised that I am not sulky any longer? Well! who do you suppose you owe it to? I'll tell you; it's that tall mouse-gray domino who's looking at us over there, and glaring at me as if she'd shoot me! She forbade me to go with you! That instantly made me want to do it."
Edmond looked at the masker the girl pointed out; it was a fact that in the eyes which were fixed upon his companion and himself there was a gleam which had in it something fascinating. Those eyes were easily recognizable, for, as Monsieur Beauregard had said, there were no others at the ball which could be compared with them.
Edmond divined therefore who the person was who glared at him so, and, in spite of himself, he was disturbed and embarrassed for a moment beneath Thélénie's burning glance.
"Oh!" he stammered, "that domino told you—forbade you to speak to me, did she?"
"Yes, she's one of your old ones, you must recognize her. Madame is jealous, but I don't care a fig! You're through with her, I hope. At all events, I'm not jealous—I'm no such fool! I prefer to dance. You are going to galop with me."
The pearl-gray domino, whose eyes were still fixed on the young couple, suddenly walked toward them, stopped beside Edmond and said in an undertone: