“I, monsieur? Why I am accustomed to seeing them in all the plays that are acted, and it doesn’t seem at all strange to me.”
Far from satisfied with this reply, Monsieur Camuzard dropped his chin on his cravat and his nose beneath his spectacles.
The choice of plays being made, they sent out for books, in order to distribute the rôles during the evening. Then they left the table and returned to the salon, where other guests, invited for the evening, were already assembled.
In the confusion that takes place when a number of people pass from one room to another, it is very easy to approach a person to whom one has something to say. A lover never lets that opportunity escape him, when he has not been seated beside the lady of his thoughts at dinner.
On this occasion it was a lady, who, as if without design, seated herself in a corner of the salon where a gentleman was already standing. The lady was the Baronne de Grangeville, and she said to Monsieur de Merval in an undertone:
“Have I changed so very much, pray, that Monsieur de Merval does not recognize me?”
“Pardon me, madame—I recognized you perfectly the instant that you arrived.”
“In that case, why did you not speak to me?”
“You have changed your name and I supposed that you did not wish to be recognized; I respected your incognito.”
“If I have changed my name, you must be well aware of the—the reason; you must have learned of what—of what happened to me.”