“You are married! Who, then, is the unhappy wretch who has given you his name? an idiot or a knave—it must be one or the other!”
Thélénie bit savagely at the head of her crop, but she tried in vain to recover her usual self-possession.
“Come, madame,” continued Paul, “tell me why you came here. Tell me at once and let us hasten to put an end to an interview which, I trust, will never be repeated.”
“Monsieur, I came—your infernal dog is the cause of my coming. If he hadn’t thrown himself at me—at my horse—not long ago, to defend a little boy who was throwing stones at me, I shouldn’t have tried to find out to whom he belonged.”
“Doubtless Ami recognized you, madame; he has a better memory than you; he always recognizes my friends, and my enemies as well.”
“What! is this that great gaunt creature that you used to have? He has grown so big and strong! I confess that I didn’t recognize him; I thought at first that he belonged to a lady who foolishly took sides with the little good-for-nothing.”
“So you are Madame de Belleville, are you?” cried Paul, to whom Honorine had described her adventure with the handsome equestrian.
“To be sure! does that surprise you?”
“Nothing could astonish me on your part.”
“Yes, monsieur, I have married Monsieur de Belleville, a very worthy man, a young man—in good society. I have nearly forty thousand francs a year, I have my own carriage, and not long ago we bought a beautiful estate in Chelles.”