“Madame de Belleville involved me in a wretched piece of business. I extricated myself from my duel with honor, but I must admit that I was in the wrong. The ladies at the Courtivaux house are as white as milk; I consider them most honorable persons.”
The little, lame man had spoken in the same strain. As for Chamoureau, he wandered about his salon with a dismayed expression, answering at random the remarks that were addressed to him.
“May I know to what I am indebted for the presence of such a delightful assemblage in my salon this afternoon?” said Thélénie, as she saluted the company.
“Why, did not you invite us, belle dame?” said Madame Droguet.
“I! indeed, no; although I congratulate myself upon your presence. I confess that I did not expect this pleasure to-day.—So it was you, Monsieur de Belleville, who chose to give me this delightful surprise?”
Chamoureau tried to assume an impressive manner, and stammered:
“No, madame.”
“What! neither you, nor I! This is strange, to say the least.—I believe, monsieur, that you are concealing something from me.”
“Well, madame, we had a duel this morning.”
“I had a duel!” exclaimed Luminot.