It was long after twelve o'clock. The gentlemen seemed no more disposed to give way to each other than on the day of the fan. Suddenly Madame Baldimer rose.
"It is very late, messieurs," she said; "I am going to bed, and I bid you good-night!"
The two men rose to salute her.
The lovely widow took occasion to whisper to Albert, as she asked him to hand her the shawl:
"That man is insufferable to me; try to rid me of him."
Albert simply bowed, without a word.
Then, as she passed the count, she said in his ear:
"That young man is always at my heels; pray find some way to relieve me of his presence."
The Swede, in his turn, made a low bow.
Thereupon she left the two gentlemen in the boudoir, each reflecting upon what she had just whispered to him. They glanced at each other from time to time—Albert with a mocking expression, the count with a slight frown.