Part 29 (1/2)
”Mon Dieu! I have no idea; she had been boring me and annoying me for ten minutes; I would have promised her all the treasures of the Indies to get rid of her.”
”But why did she hold your hand?”
”Because it is the habit of all those women; they can't say a word to you without taking your arm or your hand.”
”Is she a prost.i.tute then?”
”No, she is a--a kept woman.”
”She has a very insolent manner, at all events.”
At last I induced Eugenie to go in, and we were shown to a private room.
I wrote my order, for after all, I myself realized that I had not dined.
The waiter left the room, whispering to me in an undertone:
”Monsieur will ring when he wants the dinner served.”
He evidently misunderstood the state of affairs. Husbands and wives are not in the habit of dining in private rooms.
Madame took a seat in the corner, a long way from the table. She rested her head on one of her hands. She had ceased to weep, but she did not look at me. How amusing it would be, if she acted like that all the time that we were dining, or that I was dining! So this was the little spree to which I had looked forward so eagerly! Man proposes and woman disposes.
I wished Lucile at the devil with all my heart. It was her malice, her obstinacy, that had caused all the trouble. The idea of her refusing to leave me! It was simply because it annoyed me.
It seemed to me that if we were to maintain that att.i.tude, I should do well to ring for dinner at once.
Our room looked on the Champs-Elysees. The weather was beautiful; although it was only the middle of April, it was as warm as midsummer. I opened the window and looked out at the pa.s.sers-by for some time.
Eugenie did not budge; I walked to her side.
”Eugenie, do you propose to stay a mile away from the table like this?”
”I told you that I was not hungry. Eat your dinner, monsieur, I don't object.”
”What a delightful pleasure party!”
”Yes, I shall remember it.”
”And so shall I, madame. You must have a very bad temper to refuse to listen to reason! The idea of thinking that I was looking for that woman when I was waiting for you!”
”I don't say that you were looking for her, monsieur, I am not foolish enough for that; but I do think that she was looking for you, a task which you often save her, no doubt. Besides, you have admitted that she used to be your mistress.”
”That I knew her before I was married, that is true, madame. Perhaps I was foolish to admit that; but as I had done no wrong, I did not think that I ought to lie.”
”When a man has known a woman, and continues to see her, he must be on as good terms with her as ever.”
”You are very much mistaken! If it were so, men would have altogether too much on their hands.”
”Everybody has not known all Paris as you have!”
”Madame, I have been no better nor worse than other men; but I see that I should have been less honest with you.”