Monsieur Sordeville became dumb; his lips blanched, but he forced
himself to smile, and replied, after a brief interval:
"In truth, madame, I was ill-advised to converse with one of my guests;
it is robbing you of an adorer."
"Come and play, baron," said Madame Dauberny, making no reply to
Monsieur Sordeville's compliment.
The baron came to the table with a blissful air, crying:
"I vould like noding petter, but I haf not ein sou."
"You may play on credit, monsieur; you are one of those men whose honor
is evident to all, and of whom no one ventures to speak slightingly."
The baron bowed; he was radiant with joy. It seemed to me that there was
a hidden meaning in Madame Dauberny's last words, and that they were
accompanied with a glance at Monsieur Sordeville, who did not stir.
The baron seated himself by my side. I offered to lend him money; he
accepted, and in a short time we broke the bank. Thereupon the fair
Frédérique gravely rose and left the table, saying:
"Faith! the proverb did not lie; it was written that you should both
win."
"Are you going, montame?"
"Yes, baron."
"Vill you not bermit me to escord you in my carriage?"
"No, not to-night."
"Monsir Rocheprune, he vill come mit us."
"Thanks; but I do not care for an escort to-night. Nights succeed one
another, but do not resemble one another."
Frédérique took her departure, leaving the baron discomfited. I returned
to Madame Sordeville, as I was determined to speak to her before I went
away. I saw that she was alone, so I hastened to her side and told her
how happy I should be if I could see her again soon and tell her of my
love, without witnesses. She listened with a distraught, indifferent
air; and when I thought that she was about to reply, she cried:
"Dear me! they haven't served the tea yet, and it's after twelve!"
And she left me. I stood for a moment as if rooted to the floor. I could
not understand the caprice, the coquetry, the bewildering changes, in
Armantine's treatment of me. I asked myself if a false note could have
caused it all; and if so, what reliance was to be placed upon a lady's
favor. I concluded that it would be well for me to go away. At that
moment, the tall, thin woman who had previously spoken to me accosted me
again:
"When your teeth ache too badly, monsieur, you can fill them yourself.
I'll show you how. Come and sit here."
I had no desire to hear any more, and turned and fled while she was
seating herself in a convenient position to show me how one can fill
one's own teeth.
XXV
A YOUNG MOTHER
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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