And the gentleman played on, began, stopped, branched off to something else; in short, acted as if he were at home; you will understand how entertaining that was to the company. It had been going on for a long while, and the gentleman seemed to have no idea of stopping; it was as if the piano had been placed there for him, and we were too fortunate to have the privilege of listening to the preludes, the flourishes, and whatever he happened to remember. I have met in society many original creatures like that gentleman. Bélan had been in the salon for some time; he had gone in before me. I saw him talking and laughing with Montdidier, and I guessed the subject of their conversation. Madame Montdidier looked uneasily at Bélan, for she did not know that he was forewarned of what he should say; but she was reassured when she saw that they seemed to be on the best of terms. Poor Montdidier did not seem to me to be so ill-tempered and so jealous as his wife represented. The ladies like to say that a man is very jealous of them; it flatters their self-esteem; and then too there would be no pleasure in deceiving men who did not care. In vain did Madame Giraud bustle about to find a singer of either sex; every virtuoso had some reason for refusing. That annoyed the hostess, who was anxious to be able to say that she had had a concert before the ball, and who saw that everyone was doing his utmost to avoid listening to the essays of the gentleman at the piano. She made up her mind at last to say to him that the company desired a contradance; and the gentleman left the piano with a nonchalant air, running his hands through his hair and humming a fragment of Rossini. I determined to invite the young woman whom I found so attractive; not that I intended to make a declaration during the contradance; such things are done only at a public ball, or possibly at a wedding party at a restaurant; but I proposed to try to talk a little, if she seemed to be in a talkative mood. There are many young women with whom it is impossible to obtain more than three words in succession when they are dancing. I arrived just in time and my invitation was accepted; we danced. I tried to say something besides: “It is very hot,” or: “This is a very pretty dance.” It is really very hard to think instantly of something to say to a person whom one does not know, especially when one would like to depart from the usual commonplaces. But Giraud returned with his two lamps resplendent with light. There was a subject of conversation. “We needed them; there is nothing so dismal as a badly-lighted ballroom; is there, mademoiselle?” “That is true, monsieur.” “There are some ladies here, however, who might prefer a half light.” She contented herself with smiling. “You have not sung, mademoiselle?” “I beg pardon, monsieur, I sang one song.” “Then it must have been before I came. That makes me deeply regret that I came so late.” “You didn’t lose much, monsieur.”