Madame Plays started back, surprised to see a stranger offer her his arm; but in an instant she recognized Pigeonnier, and exclaimed:
"What! is it you, monsieur? Are you on your way again to replace your friend—that blackguard Albert? Ah! what a monster that fellow is! how I detest him!"
"Why, no, madame; I have come on my own account; I am on my way to the Pâté des Italiens, as you know."
"As I know? What difference does it make to me where you are going?"
"Why, don't you understand? I was going to the Pâté des Italiens, at the time you mentioned."
"Oh! you weary me with your pâté, monsieur! I don't understand a word you say."
"What, madame! wasn't it you who gave me a rendezvous for this evening, at nine o'clock?"
"A rendezvous! I! Why, you're mad, monsieur! I never gave you a rendezvous!"
Tobie was petrified; he saw that he had formed false hopes; but, determined to make the most of his meeting with Madame Plays, he rejoined:
"I was told that a pretty woman wished to see me. The description which was given me of the person was so seductive—I thought it was you—and notwithstanding the somewhat—er—savage way you treated me the last time I saw you, it made me very happy to think that I was going to see you again."