"It seems that she's paid. I'm not sorry, I like that way better;" and he went his way, building castles in Spain touching his liaison with the susceptible Plays.
Célestin called on Albert at midday, and found him gazing at a magnificent cashmere shawl that was spread out on a divan.
"What the devil are you doing?" inquired Monsieur de Valnoir.
"I am admiring this shawl, as you see; isn't it superb?"
"It is, indeed; but it seems as if I had seen it on somebody."
"You have seen its mate on Madame Plays."
"Ah! that's it. And what are you doing with this one? Are you in the way of giving your mistresses cashmere shawls?"
"Why not! If you should see this shawl on the fair American's shoulders, do you think that she would still laugh at my love?"
Célestin pressed his lips together, then replied:
"Oh, no! I should be compelled to believe, on the contrary, that you are a fortunate mortal. But it must have been very expensive!"