"Never mind! I am going to enter the lists with Flavia to make the conquest of the Black Chevalier."
Jarnonville had left the card table and had taken a seat in a less brilliantly lighted part of the room; but Mademoiselle Flavia, a young madcap with very eloquent eyes, bright and languorous in turn, soon seated herself beside him, and said:
"What are you doing in this corner? you look as if you were sulking, and that is not what people come here for. Come, say something to me. Do you know that you are not at all gallant—you have not said a single word to one of these ladies to-night!"
"As you see that I pay no attention to the ladies, why do you pay any attention to me?" retorted Jarnonville, meeting with absolute indifference the fire of the blonde Flavia's glances.
"Why?—Why, my dear man, do you know nothing of women?—For the very reason that you pay no attention to us, that you seem to scorn to win our favors, I long to make your conquest—from a spirit of contradiction! We always desire what is not offered us.—What is the meaning of this mania for playing the bear at your time of life? Come, tell me your troubles."
"You would not understand them!"
"What a boor!—Mon Dieu! I can guess them: you have been betrayed by your wife or your mistress—it is always that that makes you men misanthropic."
"I was sure that you would not understand me," said Jarnonville, rising; and he was about to turn away, when the dark-haired Camilla planted herself in front of him, with a smile on her face.
"How now, Sire de Jarnonville," she said; "can it be that you think of going already? Why, it is not daylight yet! We are going to sing, and dance chaconnes; will you not be my partner?"
"Such pleasures have not appealed to me for many years. Excuse me, fair Camilla; you are unfortunate in your choice."