He eyed me up and down most impolitely, and pretended not to recognize me. He signed to me to sit down and, without a word, handed me a pen and showed me where to sign my name on the paper before me.
Mme. Guérard interposed, laying her hand on mine.
“Do not sign without reading it,” she said.
“Are you mademoiselle’s mother?” he asked, looking up.
“No,” she said, “but it is just the same as though I were.”
“Well, yes, you are right. Read it quickly,” he continued, “and then sign or leave it alone, but be quick.”
I felt the color coming into my face, for this man was odious. Duquesnel whispered to me:
“There’s no ceremony about him, but he’s all right, don’t take offense.”
I signed my engagement and handed it to his ugly partner.
“You know,” he remarked, “M. Duquesnel is responsible for you. I should not upon any account have engaged you.”