“‘You have lost your purse?’
“‘Yes,’ replied the Countess, unobservant of her husband’s agitation; ‘or, rather, I have mislaid it in some corner.’
“‘It was doubtless of value?’
“‘Oh! by no means. A little green silk purse, my own work, and nearly empty.’
“The Count remained motionless, like a man struck by a thunderbolt.
“‘You have no commissions for Plessy?’ he at last articulated, breathing short and quick, and not knowing what he asked.
“‘I thought you just said you were going to Orleans,’ replied the Countess.
“‘I shall visit Plessy on my return.’
“‘Then kiss my little godson Henriot. Much pleasure to you; and return as soon as possible.’
“Marsanne raised the Countess’s hand to his lips, and left the boudoir; but he staggered like a drunken man, and was obliged to support himself by the bannister in order to reach his room.