My Neighbor Raymond (Novels of Paul de Kock Volume XI)Kock, Paul de
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My Neighbor Raymond (Novels of Paul de Kock Volume XI)
Kock, Paul de
French fiction -- Translations into English
Caroline was bright; her conversation abounded in sallies and
repartee--overabounded perhaps. I foresaw that she was likely to go far
and to become a leader in her class. I could understand that she must
have been bored to death on Rue des Rosiers; she secretly longed to
shine upon a greater stage, because she had a presentiment of the
triumph that awaited her. I determined to do my best not to encourage
her taste for luxury, fine dresses, and extravagance; for it would be
the devil's own job to make her take a different road when she was
fairly started.
But the clock struck eleven.
"Already!" said Caroline; "how the time flies!"
I was by her side, I held her in my arms, I rested my head on her
shoulder; silence had followed our bursts of merriment, but silence
expresses the emotion of the heart better than the noisy outbursts of
folly.
"It is very late," said Caroline, in an undertone.
"Must I go?" I said; "aren't you your own mistress now?"
She lowered her eyes and made no reply; but did I need any other avowal
than that? She defended herself very feebly; and I was such an expert
lady's-maid that in an instant she was in her night costume, if it may
be called a costume. To be sure, I tore and broke whatever came in my
way: strings, laces, and pins. Those were very trifling obstacles;
luckily, fashion does not decree that our ladies must be clad in
corselets of steel! but even so, love would find the defect in them.
There was one pleasanter obstacle which I desired to find; but I am
bound to confess that it did not exist. Ah! Mademoiselle Caroline, I
might have suspected as much! But what does it matter, after all? Was
she any less pretty on that account? No, to be sure; perhaps, indeed, it
was that that gave to her face that expression of coquettish malice
which fascinated me. But I could not help thinking that another man had
obtained much more than I without providing her with an apartment;
however, for my encouragement, I recalled the ballad:
"The first step's taken unreflecting."
Not until the second does reflection take a hand; therefore, there is
much more glory in inducing the second step than the first; I tried to
persuade myself that that was so.
At all events, I had no choice but to make the best of it, as there was
no remedy. If I had been her husband--why, then I should have done just
the same; for it is quite enough to be persuaded yourself that you are a
Georges Dandin; I see no need of proclaiming it from the housetops.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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