The little lady arched her eyebrows slightly and rejoined:
“Do you like Madame Célival’s boudoir better?”
“Madame Célival’s boudoir? Why, I have never been in it, madame; I don’t know what it is like.”
“Oh! what a fib!”
“I assure you, madame——”
“You are lying!—However, I cannot blame you; discretion is the first condition one should exact in love.”
“Discretion——”
“Oh! you play the innocent to perfection; but I am not taken in by that ingenuous air. Mon Dieu! there is such a strong smell of perfumery here—a mixture of scents. Have you essence of rose about you?”
“Rose? I don’t know; it is possible. Does it affect you unpleasantly?”