"How can he judge her intellect? he hasn't opened his mouth to her!"
"No; but he has heard her talk, which amounts to the same thing. Indeed, she passed him a dish several times and said: 'Will you have some of this, monsieur?'—And the way she said those simple words enabled him to detect her merit."
"Well, when will your count make his proposal?"
"To-morrow, probably; you can understand that he isn't likely to do it to-night, before all these people."
"Then I can tell Monsieur Mirotaine that, and begin to look after the wedding presents?"
"You must look after them at the earliest possible moment, and see that they are worthy of a sultan."
The Putiphar woman walked away, delighted, and was on the point of repeating this conversation to Aldegonde, when Monsieur Dubotté and his wife were announced.
Madame Éléonore Dubotté was a short, plump woman of twenty-five, fair-haired and white-skinned, with a round, fresh face, and exceedingly tender blue eyes, which were fixed upon her husband almost all the time. You will remember that he complained of being loved too well by his wife.
Dubotté went to pay his respects to Aldegonde, having with much difficulty induced his wife to release his arm. Then he shook hands with Mirotaine, who had reappeared without his decanter, and who seemed much flattered because Dubotté had at last accepted an invitation to his house.
But, at sight of Dubotté, Dodichet had made a most amusing grimace.