"But let us drop that, my dear, and talk of our affairs a little. We parted twelve years ago—on rather bad terms, as I remember; but we were still lovers then, and lovers often quarrel; at all events, two people can't love each other forever—it grows monotonous. To-day there's no question of all that; we are old friends, and you cannot doubt the interest that I take in whatever concerns you."
"Interest! it seems to me, however, that you have displayed very little interest in me. I have passed twelve years without a word from monsieur; at that time my fortune was already much impaired, and since then I have had time to become ruined altogether, to be reduced to a very straitened, very embarrassing position; but have you troubled yourself about it? Not the least in the world! And yet it seems to me, monsieur, that if you had had any affection for me, if you had taken any interest in me, you would have had an opportunity to prove it."
"Come, come, belle dame, let us not lose our tempers, and above all let us not condemn without a hearing. You accuse me wrongfully. In the first place, I supposed that you were still in comfortable circumstances at least; and in the second place, I myself have not been for a long time in a position to assist my friends. I did it often formerly,—without reciprocity; but that would not have prevented me from continuing to do it if fortune had permitted. But she turned her back on me, she deserted me utterly; I treated her too cavalierly and she bore me ill-will. I was unlucky in everything—cards, bets, races, investments; it was impossible for me to retrieve myself in any direction! And what remains now of a handsome property?—some claims on which I can collect nothing, and a few wretched industrial stocks, which I am obliged to sell in order to live, and which will soon be all gone; that is where I am now; so that I can't think of others, being always compelled to think of myself; that is reasonable."
"Ah! so you are reduced to that!" rejoined Madame de Grangeville coldly, casting from time to time an inquisitive glance at the different parts of her former lover's attire. "That is very sad. I understand now. I said to myself: 'Why, Monsieur de Roncherolle, who was always so elegant, so coquettish in his dress—why does he neglect himself so?' But of course, if you can't do otherwise!"
Roncherolle bit his lips, swaying back and forth on the causeuse, and replied:
"Oh! that is the least of my troubles! I attach little importance to those trifles now. At our age, you see, my dear friend, coquetry serves no purpose, unless it be to make us ridiculous! When the time has come, it's no use to paint and bedeck ourselves—it doesn't take away either a wrinkle or a year!"
"He has become painfully tiresome, has this man," thought Madame de Grangeville, as she put a phial of salts to her nose. After a moment, she rejoined with a nonchalant air:
"Thank heaven! everybody hasn't deserted me; I have some friends who remember doubtless that I obliged them formerly, and one of them is giving me an allowance of five thousand francs at this moment."
"The devil! that is handsome, that is very handsome! Is it a male or a female friend who treats you in such magnificent fashion?"
"Mon Dieu! I have no idea! the person doesn't divulge his name; he prefers to remain anonymous, in order not to be thanked even. Isn't that a noble act?"