Volume I Part 64 (1/2)
XXIII
CHAMOUREAU TAKES THE PLUNGE HEADFOREMOST
Beauregard threw himself upon a chair, facing Thelenie. When Mademoiselle Helose had left them alone, they gazed at each other for some time without speaking; but one could read on their faces that the same thought was not in the minds of both.
The beautiful courtesan pressed her lips together in a convulsive fas.h.i.+on, her eyes avoided her companion's and wandered about the room, and she opened and closed her hands with a sort of nervous contraction of the muscles that indicated an impatience which she could hardly control.
Beauregard, on the contrary, seemed perfectly calm and placid; he amused himself watching the woman before him, and the ironical expression of his eyes might have created the impression that he took a secret pleasure in the annoyance which his presence caused her.
”May I be permitted to know to what I owe the honor of seeing you, monsieur?” said Thelenie, breaking the silence at last.
”Ah! so you a.s.sume, madame, that I must have some special reason for coming to see you? Why should you not think that I am impelled solely by the desire to do homage to your beauty?”
”Because I know that my beauty has long been entirely indifferent to you; we have got beyond the complimentary stage!”
”Which may be interpreted to mean that we no longer tell each other falsehoods, may it not?”
”I don't interpret it so! When you told me that you thought me pretty, that I pleased you, I was pretty enough to justify me in believing that you meant it.”
”Yes, we men sometimes tell the truth; I am convinced that, as a general rule, we lie less than women.”
”Do you think so? it is quite possible! Did you come here to work out that problem?”
”No, indeed; it would take too long; I should prefer the labors of Hercules. Restrain your impatience, madame, I am coming to the purpose of my visit. The liaison which once existed between us two was not without result, as you know.”
Thelenie turned paler and pressed her lips together more tightly; but she kept silent and waited.
”In short, to speak plainly, you had a child, whose paternity you chose to attribute to me; in fact, I do not deny it, as the step which I am taking at this moment sufficiently proves. Yes, we had a few months of ardent pa.s.sion, of exalted sentiments! we even went so far as to live away from the world for some time, in a chalet, surrounded by goats and cheese. It was superb, but it didn't last long; things that are carried to excess never do last.--Briefly, you returned to Paris, and I had gone to Italy for a little trip, I believe, when you wrote me that you had given birth to a son--for it was a boy, was it not, madame?”
”Yes, monsieur, it was a boy; and you didn't even answer my letter.”
”Because I was very much occupied then; but when I returned to Paris, nine months later, I lost no time in calling upon you; I had some difficulty in finding you; I had even more in obtaining an audience. You were so surrounded by adorers, courtiers, slaves! You had them in all ranks of life--bankers, Hungarian counts, speculators!--Oh! I must do you the justice to say that you have always had a very marked penchant for finance!--and you no longer cared to receive a visit from me.”
”It was my turn, monsieur, to be very much occupied.”
”My reign had gone by; I do not presume to make any complaint on that score, madame!”
”And you are wise, for you have no right to; didn't you leave me first--to go to Italy?”
”Possibly; it may be that I had reasons for leaving you. But let us not recriminate; that matter is not in question now. When I saw you again, my first remark was to ask you where my son was; and you replied that he died three months after his birth.”
”I certainly did, monsieur; and as it was true, I could make no other answer.”
”At first, I was satisfied with that answer; and I left you; but later, other ideas occurred to me, and I called on you again. I found the same difficulty in speaking to you, for you seemed to shun me, and to display the greatest persistency in avoiding my presence.”
”Why should I have desired it, monsieur? For a long time we had ceased to have anything to say to each other.”
”Pardon me, madame; I had certain questions to ask you concerning the particulars of the child's death; and those questions seemed to annoy you exceedingly, for only with the very greatest difficulty did I succeed in obtaining the answers I desired.”
”There are subjects which it is painful to revive; that was one of them; it could not fail to renew my grief.”