Part 9 (2/2)
”That, then,” I continued, ”is why she is alone here?”
”Precisely.”
”But who will see her home?”
”He will.”
”He will come for her?”
”In a moment.”
”And you, who is seeing you home?”
”No one.”
”May I offer myself?”
”But you are with a friend, are you not?”
”May we offer, then?”
”Who is your friend?”
”A charming fellow, very amusing. He will be delighted to make your acquaintance.”
”Well, all right; we will go after this piece is over, for I know the last piece.”
”With pleasure; I will go and tell my friend.”
”Go, then. Ah,” added Prudence, as I was going, ”there is the duke just coming into Marguerite's box.”
I looked at him. A man of about seventy had sat down behind her, and was giving her a bag of sweets, into which she dipped at once, smiling. Then she held it out toward Prudence, with a gesture which seemed to say, ”Will you have some?”
”No,” signalled Prudence.
Marguerite drew back the bag, and, turning, began to talk with the duke.
It may sound childish to tell you all these details, but everything relating to Marguerite is so fresh in my memory that I can not help recalling them now.
I went back to Gaston and told him of the arrangement I had made for him and for me. He agreed, and we left our stalls to go round to Mme.
Duvernoy's box. We had scarcely opened the door leading into the stalls when we had to stand aside to allow Marguerite and the duke to pa.s.s.
I would have given ten years of my life to have been in the old man's place.
When they were on the street he handed her into a phaeton, which he drove himself, and they were whirled away by two superb horses.
We returned to Prudence's box, and when the play was over we took a cab and drove to 7, Rue d'Antin. At the door, Prudence asked us to come up and see her showrooms, which we had never seen, and of which she seemed very proud. You can imagine how eagerly I accepted. It seemed to me as if I was coming nearer and nearer to Marguerite. I soon turned the conversation in her direction.
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