Croque and Chamoureau walked away arm-in-arm, leaning on each other. Freluchon soon arrived at Madame Dalmont’s. Edmond was at the piano with Agathe, but Honorine was thoughtful and melancholy, for her new friend, Paul, had not come to see them.
Freluchon enlivened the company by describing what had taken place between himself and the Baron von Schtapelmerg.
“Is that the gentleman whom you thought so ugly?” Agathe asked her friend.
“Yes, and I haven’t changed my opinion.”
“Frankly,” said Freluchon, “I have rather a poor opinion of that man, who talks about nothing but sauerkraut and kirschwasser; I never heard a genuine baron swear as he does. And then he let fall some words which—impressed me. I propose to study this baron.—Are you going to Madame de Belleville’s ball to-morrow, Edmond?”
“I have no desire to.”
“You make a mistake; I have an idea that it will be very interesting.”
“Go there for a moment,” said Honorine; “otherwise they will say that we kept you from going.”
“What do I care?”
“Go,” said Agathe, “if for nothing more than to satisfy yourself whether those people do say unkind things about us.”