When he returned an hour later one glance at his face told Denise that, whatever had passed in the journey, he did not know the secret of “No. 101.” That was still to remain in the keeping of two women who loved the same man, and it would go with those two to the grave a secret for ever.
CHAPTER XXXI
FORTUNE’S BANTER
“Monsieur le Vicomte de Nérac waits on Madame la Marquise,” said the gentleman-usher.
Madame de Pompadour glanced at the clock. As André bowed it began to strike ten distinctly.
“You are punctual, Vicomte, and a man of your word,” the lady said with a faint smile.
André bowed again. What a contrast! The salon was as gay and refined as it had been a week ago. All traces of disorder had vanished and Madame herself in her heliotrope silk was as divinely seductive, as fresh and unconquerable, as when she had captivated Paris and the King at the ball of the Hôtel-de-Ville. And against that vision of loveliness he saw reflected in the mirror his own grim face, with the haggard eyes and deep-cut lines round mouth and chin of a man who had “been in hell” since he last stood in this room.
“You are tired,” Madame said gently. “If you please—” she wheeled a chair forward. But André remained standing. “I have to ask your pardon,” she continued, dropping her eyes. “I am sorry that last night I used words which I deeply regret using. But though I cannot ask you, Vicomte, to forget them, I can and do ask you to forgive.”
André’s hand tightened unconsciously on the back of the chair. He was here to demand an apology, and he had been swiftly disarmed by one gentle stroke.
“This is the jewel of the Marquise de Beau Séjour,” Madame said, “it is useless to me. I return it to you, unless you prefer I should return it to the Marquise herself in your presence and repeat what I have tried to say to you.”
André took the jewel mechanically. An apology also to Denise! That, too, he had come to extort, and it was his and hers without the asking. The pastels on the panelled walls rocked slowly in a blur of the October sunlight which kissed the heliotrope ribbon on Madame’s throat.