"Oh, yes! never fear; he is easily recognizable. I can’t imagine where Monsieur de Marcey found him!"
"Good!" thought Robineau; "they are making fun of someone—I was sure of it."
And he moved nearer to them, taking care not to tilt his chair.
"Just imagine, my dear love, a short, fat, heavy, awkward man, with a big nose, stupid little eyes, lips that he presses together when he talks, and hair curled so tight that he looks like a negro!"
"Ha! ha! ha!"
"And with it all, such a pretentious manner! He asked me to dance—they were just forming for the first contra-dance; I accepted, and during the dance he tried to play the amiable, but he had nothing to say except the most commonplace things, all so flat and wornout that it made me very sorry for him!—When he found that I made no reply to those entertaining remarks, he took the liberty to squeeze my hand while we were dancing!—Ha! ha! ha!"
At that point, the lady who was speaking turned, and Robineau recognized the countess with whom he had danced the first contra-dance. The blood rushed to his face. Meanwhile, the lady, who instantly recognized the gentleman of whom she was speaking, with difficulty restrained an inclination to laugh, and gently touched her friend’s knee. But before the latter had time to turn, Robineau was already far away. He was beside himself with rage, and glared furiously about, muttering:
"Well, upon my word! that woman must be a great joker! I don’t know whether it was I she was talking about, but in any event, I hope she may find many of my kind!—But she’s too ugly to have any attention.—To say that I squeezed her hand! that is false! These ugly women are forever slandering us men; it’s because they are furious at not finding any lovers."
Having lost his desire to listen to conversations, Robineau bent his steps toward the card-room, making such a horrible grimace that Alfred, meeting him beside one of the tables, stopped him and said:
"Mon Dieu! what a face you are making, my dear Robineau! Have you been having hard luck?"