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Page 25
"It does not seem so when you are with me. I verily believe, however, you
have undertaken to make me hate laughter as much as I used to like it."
"I do not understand you."
"How do you think I look to-night?"
"Dazzling!"
"That's too much! I know that I am not handsome."
"I don't say you are handsome, but you are extremely graceful."
"That's better; and it must be true, for I feel it. The Malabar Widow is
really handsome."
"Yes, I should like to see her at the funeral pile."
"To jump into it with her?"
"Exactly."
"Do you expect to leave soon?"
"Next week, I believe."
"Will you come and see me in Paris?"
"If you will allow me."
"No, I don't allow you."
"And why not? great heavens!"
"In the first place, I don't think I am going back to Paris myself."
"That's a good reason. And where do you expect to go, madam?"
"I don't know. Let us make a pedestrian tour somewhere, you and I
together; will you?"
"I should like nothing better. When shall we start?"
_Et cetera_. I shall not tire you, my friend, with the particulars of some
dozen similar conversations, every occasion of which for four days Madame
de Palme evidently sought. There was on her part a constantly growing
effort to leave aside all commonplace topics, and impart to our interviews
a character of greater intimacy; there was on mine an equal amount of
obstinacy in confining them within the strictest limits of social jargon,
and remaining resolutely on the ground of worldly futility.
I now come to the scene that was to bring this painful struggle to a
close, and unfortunately prove all its vanity to me.
Monsieur and Madame de Malouet were giving last night a grand farewell
ball to their daughter, whose husband has been recalled to his post of
duty, and the whole neighborhood within a circuit of ten leagues had been
summoned to the feast. Toward ten o'clock an immense crowd was overflowing
the vast ground floor of the chateau, in which the elegant dresses, the
lights, and the flowers were mingled in dazzling confusion. As I was
trying to make my way into the main drawing-room, I found myself face to
face with Madame de Malouet, who drew me slightly aside.
"Well! my dear sir," she said, "I do not like the looks of things."
"Mon Dieu! what is there new?"
"I don't know exactly, but be on your guard. Ah! mon Dieu! I have
remarkable confidence in you, sir; you will not take advantage of her,
will you?"
Her voice was tender and her eyes moist.
"You may rely upon me, madam; but I sincerely wish I had gone a week ago."
"Eh! mon Dieu! who could have foreseen such a thing? Hush! there she
comes!"
I turned round and saw Madame de Palme coming out of the parlor; before
her the throng opened with that timorous eagerness and that species of
terror which the supreme elegance of one of society's queens generally
inspires in our sex. For the first time, Madame de Palme appeared handsome
to me; the expression of her countenance was wholly novel to me, and a
weird animation gleamed in her eyes and transfigured her features.
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