"And you don't stint yourself, I should say!"
"Of course I do not stint myself! I must needs make the crowns dance, and do myself credit with my wealth! I breakfast for four, I dine for six, I sup like the greatest epicure in France; I receive eloquent glances from all sides until I am fairly bewildered; I gamble; I often frequent tennis courts; I am very strong at tennis—I always lose, but I am very strong at it; you should see how I send back the esteuf! People flock to see me play at the courts in Rue de la Perle and Rue Cassette, and especially at the fine court in Rue Mazarine. In short, Popelinette, I lead what is called a joyous life."
"Oh! as to that, there's no doubt!"
"Well! I am not joyous at all; amid all these pleasures, I sigh, I languish.—Sandioux! your tea is devilishly insipid this morning; put some more sugar in it!—Yes, I would give all these parties, all these banquets, for a glance from my love!—Alas!"
"Aha! so you have a love who won't look at you, monsieur le chevalier?"
"What a blockhead you are, Popelinette!—She doesn't look at me, because I am not before her eyes. It is a century since I saw her; I cannot succeed in meeting her. In fact, she has not seen me since I have had this elegant costume, which all the women dote on, and thanks to which I make conquests at every step. Not a woman who does not turn to look at me!"
"Bless me! it's true enough, monsieur le chevalier, that you're very funny-looking in those orange-colored clothes!"
"Funny-looking! what do you mean by funny-looking, old woman?—Pray try to use more elegant language; you talk like a goose, Popelinette, and you serve me hot water instead of tea! Take away this drug, and prepare me an emollient not to be taken through the mouth—do you understand?—Go, old witch, and be careful not to call me funny-looking again, or I will bury Roland in your half-moons!"
The old woman withdrew, grumbling, and Passedix paced his room as if he were rehearsing a scene from a tragedy.
"O Miretta!" he cried; "caprice of my heart! Shouldst thou but see me now, I cannot believe that thou wouldst be so cruel; women love fine apparel upon themselves and upon those who pay court to them. I was infernally seedy when thou didst know me, and that must have done me much discredit in thy sight.—And to think that I cannot meet her! I have planted myself like a sentinel twenty times in front of the Hôtel de Mongarcin, but she has not come out. I cannot stand there all day long, especially as I attract too much attention—the women gather about me in flocks!—No matter! I will see my fascinating brunette again—I swear it by Roland!"