"True, you are right; I like this sort of thing," said Dubourg, beginning already to feel the effects of the punch. "Etiquette is a burden that people of sense should leave at the door."
"Ah! Monsieur de Potoski, you talk like Barême!" said the old baroness, returning to the punch. "You are a palatine of the old stock."
"Not very old, madame."
"But the best, at all events," said Madame de Versac, resting her foot lightly on Dubourg's; whereupon he turned and tried to gaze tenderly at her, at the same time passing his hand behind the marchioness, who allowed him to take liberties without seeming to notice it, which Dubourg considered very patrician behavior.
"For my part, I like to talk nonsense," said the young viscountess, who was beginning to venture upon a sentence or two, now that she had eaten. "It makes me tired when[B] everyone's sober-faced."
[B] "Ousqu'on est serieux," instead of quand on, etc.
The viscountess's ousqu'on made Dubourg wince; Madame de Versac noticed it, and made haste to whisper to him:
"She's a German; she speaks with a strong accent."
"But aren't you going to give us something to do this evening, madame la marquise?" said the chevalier, pulling at his sleeves to lengthen them.
"That's so, my love," said the baroness; "why don't we play cards?"