“Oh! Only to forget everything, as her
love dream was over, to go out quickly, like those
little rose-colored tapers at Nice, on Shrove Tuesday
evening.
“Oh! Not to awake any more, as the to-morrow
would come in, black and sad, because a whole array
of barristers, ushers, solicitors and judges would
be against her, and disturb her usual quietude, would
torment her, cover her with mud, as her delicious,
amorous adventure—her first—which
had been so carefully enveloped in mystery, and had
been kept so secret behind closed shutters and thick
veils, would become an everyday episode of adultery,
which would get wind, and be discussed from door to
door; the lilac had faded, and she was obliged to bid
farewell to happiness, as if to an old friend who was
going far, very far away, never to return!
“Suddenly, however, she started and sat up,
with her neck stretched out and her eyes fixed, while
the excanteen-keeper, who was trembling with emotion,
put her hands to her left ear, which was her best,
like a speaking trumpet, and tried to hear the cries
which succeeded each other from room to room, amidst
a noise of opening and shutting of doors.
“’Ah! upon my word, I am not blind....It
is Monsieur de Tavernay who is applying again, and
making all that noise....Don’t you hear, Mame
Piquignolles, Mame Piquignolles! Saved, saved!’
And she dashed out of the cupboard like an unwieldy
mass, with her cap all on one side, an anxious look
and heavy legs.
“Tavernay was still quite pale, and in a panting
voice he cried out to them: ’Nothing serious,
only that fool Fremecourt, who lent me the rooms,
has forgotten to pay for his piano for the last five
months, a hundred francs a month....You understand
...they came to claim it, and as we did not reply
...why, they fetched the Police Commissary, and so,
in the name of the law....
“‘A nice fright to give one!’ Madame
Piquignolles said, throwing herself onto a chair.
‘Confound the nasty piano!’
“It may be useless to add, that the marchioness
has quite renounced trifles, as our forefathers
used to say, and would deserve a prize for virtue,
if the Academy would only show itself rather more gallant
towards pretty women, who take crossroads in order
to become virtuous.
“Emotions like that cure people of running risks
of that kind!”
It was not only her long, silky curls, which covered
her small, fairy-like head, like a golden halo, nor
her beautiful complexion, nor her mouth, which was
like some delicate shell, nor was it her supreme innocence,
which was shown by her sudden blushes, and by her somewhat
awkward movements, nor was it her ingenious questions
which had assailed and conquered George d’Harderme’s
heart. He had a peculiar temper, and any appearance
of a yoke frightened him and put him to flight immediately,
and his unstable heart was ready to yield to any temptation,
and he was incapable of any lasting attachment, while
a succession of women had left no more traces on it
than on the seashore, which is constantly being swept
by the waves.
