Homepage
Login
Profile
BookClubs
dmBox
Read Ebook: Sans-Cravate; or The Messengers; Little Streams by Kock Paul De
Font size:
Background color:
Text color:
Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page Prev Page
Ebook has 5827 lines and 191615 words, and 117 pages
Monsieur Tobie Pigeonnier blushed to the end of his nose; but he affected to laugh heartily, and replied:
"Ah! Monsieur de Valnoir, how unkind of you! When you find me wearing anything that isn't of the first quality, you will be very sharp. I care for nothing, of any sort, that is not really choice. It's the same with my linen--I must always have the very finest. The shirt I am wearing cost me seventy-five francs."
"Have you many dozens of that sort?"
"Have you an aunt in business?"
"Yes; she sells all sorts of goods on commission. It's a big establishment: twelve clerks and eight travelling men. She promised long ago to put me at the head of it; and if it hadn't been for some escapades of mine, she'd have done it before now."
C?lestin began to whistle between his teeth, and Albert, who had not been listening to Tobie for several minutes, suddenly exclaimed:
Albert's two companions thereupon looked into the street, and C?lestin, after glancing at a carriage which was passing, replied:
"Yes, that is she."
"Was she alone?"
"I think not; I thought that I caught a glimpse of a moustache beside her face."
"Well! what's the matter with you?" said C?lestin, looking at his friend as if he would have liked to read his inmost thoughts; "do you think of following that carriage?"
Albert tried to smile, as he replied:
"Why is anyone foolish enough to pay court to her?"
"Why, because she is lovely."
"There's no lack of lovely women in Paris."
"Nor in the suburbs," said Tobie. "I knew one at Nanterre. Such a love of a woman!"
"Did she sell cakes?"
"Ah! you joker! cakes! She was a woman of very high position."
"Did she live on a hill?"
"She had a villa, monsieur, a magnificent villa."
"At Nanterre? That is strange; I never happened to see any fine houses there."
"It wasn't just at Nanterre, but in the neighborhood."
Albert Vermoncey was lost in thought; he walked very slowly, and turned his head from time to time to see if he could still see the carriage.
Monsieur C?lestin, who, without seeming to do so, closely watched his companion's movements, said, after a moment, dwelling significantly upon his words:
"Madame Baldimer did not hide," said Albert; "the blinds of her carriage were not lowered."
"Perhaps they are now," murmured C?lestin.
Albert clenched his hands as if he had had a spasm of pain.
"I say, my dear Albert," said Tobie, after trying, but in vain, to fix his little glass in his right eye, "are you in love with this Madame Baldimer, that you seem inclined to follow her carriage?"
"I, in love with her? upon my word! Do you suppose that I am idiotic enough to fall in love with a woman again? I love them when they are pretty; but it lasts just so long as is necessary to triumph over them; that is quite enough. Mon Dieu! that is the best way to succeed with women. But if you really love them, you become melancholy, jealous, a bore to your friends; and your fair one no longer listens to you, and, what is worse, deceives you. Madame Baldimer is very beautiful; I have been attentive to her, as to many others."
"Yes," rejoined Tobie, sucking the gold head of his cane; "that is our business, to pay court to the ladies. Ah! if I should write my adventures--I had an idea of doing it once; but it would have taken too long; I hadn't the time, and the current forced me along."
"Did Madame Baldimer listen to you favorably?" asked C?lestin, with a satirical glance at his friend.
"Why, not less so than to others. I have already told you that she plays the coquette with everybody and listens to no one."
Albert frowned and tapped his boot with his switch, as he replied:
"You say that there was a man with her; I saw no one."
"Because your sight is not good, apparently."
"Ah! there's D?silly, the illustrious D?silly."
Two young men who were just passing our three idlers stopped in front of them. One of the two, who wore a broad-brimmed hat with a pointed crown, and had a beard a sapper might have envied, shook hands with Albert and C?lestin in turn, saying:
"How are you, boys! we are out for a stroll. I tell you, this is something like! Who will give me a cigar? I've just finished mine."
Albert took from his pocket a dainty cigar case of Italian straw, and offered it to the two new-comers, each of whom took a cigar and lighted it from Albert's and C?lestin's; meanwhile, Tobie whispered in Albert's ear:
"Is that the artist D?silly, who draws such amusing, clever caricatures in the paper?"
"Himself."
"D?silly," said C?lestin, "you promised to show me the collection of your latest caricatures, which I want to send to Bordeaux. When would you like me to come?"
"My boys, don't ask me anything at this moment; I have a love affair on hand, and it is impossible for me to think of anything else. It may last a week, perhaps two, but it surely won't go over a month; then I shall be at your service. Adieu!"
And the artist went off with his friend.
"He has a love affair on hand," said Monsieur Tobie; "and it seems to engage his attention to the exclusion of everything else."
"Yes; but he knows the measure of his sentiments, and he never makes a mistake. He is wiser than those men who when they are attacked by a new passion imagine that it will last forever!"
"Yes, yes, the rest of the story," said C?lestin.
Albert resumed his narrative, but with much less animation, and as if he were doing it solely to oblige.
"Well, messieurs; Madame Plays was at Madame Baldimer's dance. The company was slightly mixed, as you can understand. A foreigner who has lived in Paris only a year cannot know very many people; and when she chooses to give receptions and balls, she must necessarily accept with confidence such guests as are presented to her; and her confidence is often misplaced."
"Sapristi! you are as verbose as a lawyer to-day, Albert."
"Madame Plays was superb; she is somewhat massive, as you know, but a very beautiful woman. Tall Saint-Clair, who was there, did not lose sight of her, and made eyes at her--Gad! it was enough to make one burst with laughter. Madame Plays responded, for lack of something better to do. She is a woman who must always have occupation. All of a sudden, it came into my head to rob that idiotic Saint-Clair of his conquest. I had never before given a thought to Madame Plays, although I had frequently met her in society. I had no sooner conceived the project, than I set to work. Supper had just been served; I seated myself beside the emotional Herminie--that is her name--and overwhelmed her with little attentions, interspersed with tender words. Ah! if you knew what success I had! it went so quickly that I was almost frightened. She went so far as to tell me that I had done very wrong not to declare myself sooner."
Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page Prev Page