“晚上好，亲爱的加斯东，”玛格丽特对我的同伴说，“看到您很高兴，在杂耍剧院，您为什么不到我包厢里来？”
“我怕有点冒昧。”
“作为朋友来说，永远也谈不上冒昧。”玛格丽特着重地说了朋友这两个字，仿佛她要使在场的人了解，尽管她接待加斯东的样子很亲热，但加斯东不论过去和现在都只不过是一个朋友而已。
“那么，您允许我向您介绍阿尔芒·迪瓦尔先生吗？”
“我已经答应普律当丝给我介绍了。”
“不过，夫人，”我弯了弯腰，好不容易讲了一句勉强听得清的话，“我有幸早已被人介绍给您过了。”
从玛格丽特迷人的眼睛里似乎看得出她在回忆，但是她一点儿也想不起来，或者是，看起来似乎她想不起来。
“夫人，”接着我又说，“我很感激您已经忘记了第一次的介绍，因为那时我很可笑，一定惹您生气了。那是两年前，在喜剧歌剧院，跟我在一起的是欧内斯特·德……”
“唷！我记起来了！”玛格丽特微笑着说，“那时候不是您可笑，而是我爱捉弄人，就像现在一样，不过我现在比过去好些了。您已经原谅我了吧，先生？”
她把手递给我，我吻了一下。
“真是这样，”她又说，“您想象得到我的脾气有多坏，我老是喜欢捉弄初次见面的人，使他们难堪，这样做其实是很傻的。我的医生对我说，这是因为我有些神经质，并且总是觉得不舒服的缘故，请相信我医生的话吧。”
“但是现在看来您的身体很健康。”
“啊！我生过一场大病。”
“这我知道。”
“是谁对您说的？”
“您生病大家都知道，我经常来打听您的病情，后来我很高兴地知道您的病好了。”
“我从来没有收到过您的名片。”
“我从来不留名片。”
“据说在我生病的时候，有一个青年每天都来打听我的病情，但一直不愿留下姓名，这个年轻人难道就是您吗？”
“就是我。”
“那么，您不仅宽宏大量，而且心肠挺好。”她向我望了一眼。女人们在给一个男人作评价感到用语言不足以表达时，常用这种眼光来补充。随后她转身向N伯爵说：“伯爵，换了您就不会这样做了吧。”
“我认识您才不过两个月呀，”伯爵辩解说。
“而这位先生认识我才不过五分钟呢，您尽讲些蠢话。”
女人们对她们不喜欢的人是冷酷无情的。
伯爵满脸通红，咬着嘴唇。
我有些可怜他，看来他似乎像我一样爱上了她，而玛格丽特毫不掩饰的生硬态度一定使他很难堪，尤其是在两个陌生人面前。
“我们进来的时候，您正在弹琴，”我想把话扯开去，就说道，“请您把我当老朋友看待，继续弹下去好吗？”
“啊！”她一面对我们做手势要我们坐下，一面倒在长沙发上说，“加斯东知道我弹些什么。如果我只是跟伯爵在一起弹弹倒还凑合，但是我可不愿意让你们两位遭这份罪。”
“您对我居然这么偏爱？”N伯爵聊以解嘲地微笑着说。
“您这就错怪我了；我指的仅仅是这一件事罢了。”
这个可怜的青年注定只能一言不发了，他简直像哀求似地向那个姑娘望了一眼。
“那么，普律当丝，”她接着说，“我托您的事办好了吗？”
“办好了。”
“那好，过一会儿告诉我好了。我们有些事要谈谈，在我没有跟您谈之前，您先别走呀。”
“我们也许来得不是时候，”于是我说，“现在我们，还不如说是我，已经得到了第二次介绍，这样就可以把第一次介绍忘掉。我们，加斯东和我，少陪了。”
“根本不是这么回事；这话不是说给你们听的，恰恰相反，我倒希望你们留下来。”
伯爵掏出一块非常精致的表，看了看时间。
“是我去俱乐部的时间了，”他说。
玛格丽特一声也不吭。
于是伯爵离开了壁炉，走到她面前说：
“再见，夫人。”
玛格丽特站了起来。
“再见，亲爱的伯爵，您这就走吗？”
“是的，恐怕我使您感到讨厌了。”
“今天您也并不比往常更使我讨厌。什么时候再能见到您啊？”
“等您愿意的时候。”
“那么就再见吧！”
您得承认，她这一招可真厉害！
幸好伯爵受过良好的教育，又很有涵养。他只是握着玛格丽特漫不经心地向他伸过去的手吻了吻，向我们行了个礼就走了。
在他正要踏出房门的时候，他望了望普律当丝。
普律当丝耸了耸肩膀，那副神气似乎在说：
“您要我怎么办呢，我能做的事我都做了。”
“纳尼娜！”玛格丽特大声嚷道，“替伯爵照个亮。”
我们听到开门和关门的声音。
“总算走了！”玛格丽特嚷着回进来，“这个年轻人使我浑身难受。”
“亲爱的孩子，”普律当丝说，“您对他真是太狠心了，他对您有多好，有多体贴。您看壁炉架上还有他送给您的一块表，我可以肯定这块表至少花了他三千个法郎。”
迪韦尔诺瓦夫人走近壁炉，拿起她刚讲到的那件首饰把玩着，并用贪婪的眼光盯着它。
“亲爱的，”玛格丽特坐到钢琴前说，“我把他送给我的东西放在天平的这一边，把他对我说的话放在另一边，这样一称，我觉得接受他来访还是太便宜了他。”
“这个可怜的青年爱您。”
“如果一定要我听所有爱我的人说话，我也许连吃饭的工夫也没有了。”
接着她随手弹了一会，然后转身对我们说：
“你们想吃点什么吗？我呢，我很想喝一点儿潘趣酒①。”
①潘趣酒：一种用烧酒或果子酒掺上糖、红茶、柠檬等的英国式饮料。
“而我，我很想来一点儿鸡，”普律当丝说，“我们吃夜宵好不好？”
“好啊，我们出去吃夜宵，”加斯东说。
“不，我们就在这里吃。”
她拉了铃，纳尼娜进来了。
“吩咐准备夜宵！”
“吃些什么呢？”
“随您的便，但是要快，马上就要。”
纳尼娜出去了。
“好啦，”玛格丽特像个孩子似的跳着说，“我们要吃夜宵啦。那个笨蛋伯爵真讨厌！”
这个女人我越看越入迷。她美得令人心醉。甚至连她的瘦削也成了一种风韵。
我陷入了遐想。
我究竟怎么啦？连我自己也说不清楚，我对她的生活满怀同情，对她的美貌赞赏不已。她不愿接受一个漂亮、富有、准备为她倾家荡产的年轻人，这种冷漠的神态使我原谅了她过去所有的过失。
在这个女人身上，有某种单纯的东西。
可以看出她虽然过着放荡的生活，但内心还是纯洁的。她举止稳重，体态婀娜，玫瑰色的鼻翅微微张翕着，大大的眼睛四周有一圈淡蓝色，表明她是一种天性热情的人，在这样的人周围，总是散发着一股逗人情欲的香味；就像一些东方的香水瓶一样，不管盖子盖得多严，里面香水的味儿仍然不免要泄漏出来。
不知是由于她的气质，还是由于她疾病的症状，在这个女人的眼里不时闪烁着一种希冀的光芒，这种现象对她曾经爱过的人来说，也许等于是一种天启。但是那些爱过玛格丽特的人是不计其数的，而被她爱过的人则还没有计算呢。
总之，这个姑娘似乎是一个失足成为妓女的童贞女，又仿佛是一个很容易成为最多情、最纯洁的贞节女子的妓女。在玛格丽特身上还存在着一些傲气和独立性：这两种感情在受了挫伤以后，可能起着与廉耻心同样的作用。我一句话也没有讲，我的灵魂似乎钻到了我的心坎里，而我的心灵又仿佛钻到了我的眼睛里。
“这么说，”她突然又继续说，“在我生病的时候，经常来打听我病况的就是您啦？”
“是的。”
“您知道这可太美啦，我怎么才能感谢您呢？”
“允许我经常来看您就行。”
“您爱什么时候来就什么时候来，下午五点到六点，半夜十一点到十二点都可以。好吧，加斯东，请为我弹一首《邀舞曲》。”
“为什么？”
“一来是为了使我高兴，二来是因为我一个人总是弹不了这首曲子。”
“您在哪一段上遇到困难啦？”
“第三段，有高半音的一节。”
加斯东站起身，坐到钢琴前面，开始弹奏韦伯①的这首名曲，乐谱摊在谱架上。
玛格丽特一手扶着钢琴，眼睛随着琴谱上每一个音符移动，嘴里低声吟唱着。当加斯东弹到她讲过的那一节的时候，她一面在钢琴背上用手指敲打着，一面低声唱道：
“ré、mi、ré、do、ré、fa、mi、ré，这就是我弹不下去的地方，请再弹一遍。”
加斯东又重新弹了一遍，弹完以后，玛格丽特对他说：
“现在让我来试试。”
①韦伯（１７８６—１８２６）：德国作曲家。
她坐到位子上弹奏起来，但是当她那不听使唤的手指弹到那几个音符时又有一个音符弹错了。
“真使人难以相信，”她用一种近乎孩子气的腔调说道，
“这一段我就是弹不好！你们信不信，有几次我就是这样一直弹到深夜两点多钟！每当我想到这个蠢伯爵竟然能不用乐谱就弹得那么好，我就恨透了他，我想我就是为了这一点才恨他的。”
她又开始弹奏了，但仍旧弹不好。
“让韦伯、音乐和钢琴全都见鬼去吧！”她一面说，一面把乐谱扔到了房间的另一头，“为什么我就不会接连弹八个高半音呢？”
她交叉双臂望着我们，一面顿着脚。
她脸涨得通红，一阵轻微的咳嗽使她微微地张开了嘴。
“您看，您看，”普律当丝说，她已经脱下帽子，在镜子前面梳理两鬓的头发，“您又在生气了，这又要使您不舒服了，我们最好还是去吃夜宵吧，我快饿死了。”
玛格丽特又拉了拉铃，然后她又坐到钢琴前弹奏，嘴里曼声低吟着一首轻佻的歌。在弹唱这首歌的时候，她一点也没有出错。
加斯东也会唱这首歌，他们就来了个二重唱。
“别唱这些下流歌曲了，”我带着一种恳求的语气亲切地对玛格丽特说。
“啊，您有多正经啊！”她微笑着对我说，一面把手伸给我。
“这不是为了我，而是为了您呀。”
玛格丽特做了一个姿势，意思是说：呵，我早就跟贞洁绝缘了。
这时纳尼娜进来了。
“夜宵准备好了吗？”玛格丽特问道。
“太太，一会儿就好了。”
“还有，”普律当丝对我说，“您还没有参观过这屋子呢，来，我领您去看看。”
您已经知道了，客厅布置得很出色。
玛格丽特陪了我们一会儿，随后她叫加斯东跟她一起到餐室里去看看夜宵准备好了没有。
“瞧，”普律当丝高声说，她望着一只多层架子，从上面拿下了一个萨克森小塑像，“我还不知道您有这么一个小玩意儿呢。”
“哪一个？”
“一个手里拿着一只鸟笼的小牧童，笼里还有一只鸟。”
“如果您喜欢，您就拿去吧。”
“啊！可是我怕夺了您的好东西。”
“我觉得这个塑像很难看，我本来想把它送给我的女用人；既然您喜欢，您就拿去吧。”
普律当丝只看重礼物本身，并不讲究送礼的方式。她把塑像放在一边，把我领到梳妆间，指着挂在那里的两张细密肖像画对我说，“这就是G伯爵，他以前非常爱玛格丽特，是他把她捧出来的。您认识他吗？”
“不认识。那么这一位呢？”我指着另一幅肖像问道。
“这是小L子爵，他不得不离开了她。”
“为什么？”
“因为他几乎破了产。这又是一个爱过玛格丽特的人！”
“那么她肯定也很爱他罗。”
“这个姑娘脾气古怪，别人永远也不知道她在想些什么。小L子爵要走的那天晚上，她像往常一样到剧场去看戏，不过在他动身的时候，她倒是哭了。”
这时，纳尼娜来了，通知我们夜宵已经准备好了。
当我们走进餐室的时候，玛格丽特倚着墙，加斯东拉着她的手，轻声地在和她说话。
“您疯了，”玛格丽特回答他说，“您很清楚我是不会同意您的，像我这样一个女人，您认识已有两年了，怎么现在才想到要做我的情人呢。我们这些人，要么马上委身于人，要么永远也不。来吧，先生们，请坐吧。”
玛格丽特把手从加斯东手里抽回来，请他坐在她右面，我坐在左面，接着她对纳尼娜说：
“你先去关照厨房里的人，如果有人拉铃，别开门，然后你再来坐下。”
她吩咐这件事的时候，已是半夜一点钟了。
在吃夜宵的时候，大家嬉笑玩乐，狂饮大嚼。过不多久，欢乐已经到了顶点，不时可以听到一些不堪入耳的脏话，这种话在某个圈子里却被认为是很逗乐的，纳尼娜，普律当丝和玛格丽特听了都为之欢呼。加斯东纵情玩乐，他是一个心地善良的青年，但是他的头脑有点糊涂。我一度真想随波逐流，不要独善其身，索性参加到这场如同一盘美肴似的欢乐中去算了。但是慢慢地我就同这场喧闹分离开来了，我停止饮酒，看着这个二十岁的美丽的女人喝酒，她的谈笑粗鲁得就像一个脚夫，别人讲的话越下流，她就笑得越起劲，我心情越来越忧郁了。
然而这样的寻欢作乐，这种讲话和喝酒的姿态，对在座的其他客人们似乎可以说是放荡、坏习气，或者精力旺盛的结果；但在玛格丽特身上，我却觉得是一种忘却现实的需要、一种冲动、一种神经质的激动。每饮一杯香槟酒，她的面颊上就泛起一阵发烧的红晕。夜宵开始时，她咳嗽还很轻微，慢慢地她越咳越厉害，不得不把头仰靠在椅背上，每当咳嗽发作时，她的双手便用力按住胸脯。
她身体孱弱，每天还要过这样的放荡生活，以此折磨自己，我真为她心疼。
后来，我担心的事终于发生了，在夜宵快结束时，玛格丽特一阵狂咳，这是我来到她家里以来她咳得最厉害的一次，我觉得她的肺好像在她胸膛里撕碎了。可怜的姑娘脸涨得绯红，痛苦地闭上了眼睛，拿起餐巾擦着嘴唇，餐巾上随即染上了一滴鲜血，于是她站起身来，奔进了梳妆间。
“玛格丽特怎么啦？”加斯东问。
“她笑得太厉害，咳出血来了，”普律当丝说，“啊，没事，她每天都是这样的。她就要回来的。让她一个人在那儿好啦，她喜欢这样。”
至于我，我可忍不住了，不管普律当丝和纳尼娜非常惊讶地想叫住我，我还是站起身来径自去找玛格丽特。
'GOOD evening, my dear Gaston, ' Marguerite said to my companion, ' I'm so glad to see you. Why didn't you come to my box at the Varietes?'
'I was afraid of being indiscreet.'
'Friends, ' and Marguerite stressed the word, as though she wish to let it be known to all who were present that, despite the familiar way in which she greeted him, Gaston was not and had never been anything other than a friend, 'friends can never be indiscreet.'
'In that case, allow me to present Monsieur Armand Duval!'
'I've already given Prudence leave to do so.'
'I should perhaps say, madame, ' I said, bowing and managing to make more or less intelligible sounds, 'I have already had the honour of being introduced to you.'
Marguerite's delightful eyes seemed to be searching among her memories, but she did not remember, or appeared not to remember.
'Madame, ' I went on, 'I am grateful that you have forgotten that first meeting, for I behaved quite ridiculously and must surely have seemed very tiresome to you. It was two years ago, at the Opera-Comique; I was with Ernest de.'
'Ah! Now I remember!' Marguerite went on with a smile. 'It wasn't that you were ridiculous, but I who was a tease. As I still am rather, though less so nowadays. Have you forgiven me?'
And she held out her hand which I kissed.
'It's true, ' she continued. 'The fact is that I have this awful habit of wanting to embarrass people I see for the first time. It's very silly. My doctor says it's because I am highlystrung and always unwell: you must take my doctor's word for it.'
'But you look extremely well.'
'Oh! I've been very ill.'
'I know.'
'Who told you?'
'Everyone knew. I often used to come to find out how you were, and I was very happy to learn of your convalescence.'
'No one ever brought me your card.'
'I never left one.'
'Are you the young man who called every day to ask after me all the time I was ill, and would never leave his name?'
'I am.'
'Then you are more than kind, you are generous. You, Count, would never have done that, ' she added, turning to Monsieur de N but not before giving me one of those looks with which women let you know what they think of a man.
'I have known you for only two months, ' replied the Count.
'And this gentleman has known me for only five minutes. You always give the silliest answers.'
Women are pitiless with people they dislike.
The Count reddened and bit his lip.
I felt sorry for him, for he seemed just as much in love as I was, and Marguerite's callous frankness must have made him very wretched, especially in the presence of two strangers.
'You were playing something when we arrived, ' I then said, to change the subject.
'Won't you give me the pleasure of treating me like an old friend, and continue?'
'Oh!' she said, settling on to the sofa and gesturing to us to sit down beside her, 'Gaston knows exactly what my playing is like. It's all very well when I'm alone with the Count, but I shouldn't wish to put you through such torture.'
'So you do favour me in this respect?' replied Monsieur de N, with a smile intended to be subtle and ironic.
'You are quite wrong to reproach me for doing so. It's the only time I ever favour you in anything.'
It was clear that the poor fellow could not say anything right. He gave the young woman a truly beseeching look.
'Tell me, Prudence, ' she continued, 'did you do what I asked?'
'Yes.'
'Good, you shall tell me all about it later. We have things to talk about, so you mustn't go until I've spoken to you.'
'I think we are intruding, ' I said at this point, 'and now that we ?or rather I ?have managed a second introduction to expunge the memory of the first, Gaston and I will withdraw.'
'I won't hear of it; what I said wasn't intended for you. On the contrary, I'd like you to stay.'
The Count took out an extremely handsome watch which he consulted:
'Time I was going to the club, ' he said.
Marguerite did not reply to this.
The Count then moved away from the mantelpiece and, coming up to her:
'Good-bye, madame.'
Marguerite rose to her feet.
'Good-bye, my dear Count, must you go so soon?'
'Yes. I fear I bore you.'
'You do not bore me today more than any other day. When shall we see you again?'
'Whenever you permit.' 'Good-bye, then!'
It was cruel of her, you will agree.
Fortunately, the Count had been brought up very correctly and had an excellent character. He simply kissed the hand which Marguerite rather nonchalantly held out to him and, after taking his leave of us, went out.
As he was stepping through the doorway, he shot a glance at Prudence.
She shrugged her shoulders in a way which said:
'Sorry, but I did all I could.'
'Nanine!' called Marguerite, ' show she Count a light!'
We heard the door open and close.
'At last!' exclaimed Marguerite as she reappeared, 'he's gone; that young man gets terribly on my nerves.'
'My dear girl, 'said Prudence, 'you really are too unkind to him, he's so good to you, so thoughtful. On your mantelpiece, there's yet another watch that he's given you, and it will have set him back at least a thousand ecus, I'll be bound.'
And Madame Duvernoy, who had been moving towards the mantelpiece, was now playing with the bauble as she spoke, and casting covetous
looks at it.
'My dear, ' said Marguerite, sitting down at her piano, 'when I weigh in one hand what he gives me and, in the other, the things he says to me, I conclude that I let him have his visits very cheaply.'
'The poor boy is in love with you.'
'If I had to listen to everybody who is in love with me, I wouldn't have the time to eat my dinner.'
And she ran her fingers over the piano, after which she turned and said to us:
'Would you like anything? I'd love a little punch.'
'And I could eat a nice piece of chicken, ' said Prudence. 'Shall we have supper?'
'That's it, let's go out for supper, ' said Gaston.
'No, we'll have supper here.'
She rang. Nanine appeared.
'Send out for supper.'
'What shall I order?'
'Anything you like, but be quick, as quick as you can.'
Nanine went out.
'How lovely!' said Marguerite, skipping like a child, 'we are going to have supper. How boring that idiotic Count is!'
The more I saw of this woman, the more enchanted I was. She was entrancingly beautiful. Even her thinness became her.
I was lost in contemplation.
I would be hard put to explain what was going on inside me. I was full of indulgence for the life she led, full of admiration for her beauty. Proof of her disinterestedness was provided by the fact that she could turn down a fashionable and wealthy young man who was only too ready to ruin himself for her, and this, in my eyes, acquitted her of all past faults.
There was in this woman something approaching candour.
She was visibly still in the virgin stage of vice. Her confident bearing, her supple waist, her pink, flared nostrils, her large eyes faintly ringed with blue, all pointed to one of those passionate natures which give out a bouquet of sensuality, just as flasks from the Orient, however tightly sealed they might be, allow the fragrance of the fluids they contain to escape.
In short, either because it was her nature or else an effect of her state of health, her eyes flickered intermittently with flashes of desires which, if spoken, would have been a heaven- sent relevation to any man she loved. But those who had loved Marguerite were beyond counting, and those whom she had loved had not yet begun to be counted.
In other words, one could detect in this girl a virgin who had been turned into a courtesan by the merest accident of chance, and a courtesan whom the merest accident of chance could have turned into the most loving, the most pure of virgins. Marguerite still had something of a proud spirit and an urge to imdependence ?two sentiments which, when violated, are quite capable of achieving the same results as maidenly modesty. I said nothing. It was as though my soul had flowed completely into my heart, and my heart into my eyes.
'So, ' she went on suddenly, 'it was you who came for news of me when I was ill?'
'Yes.'
'You know, that is really quite sublime! And what can I do to thank you?'
'Allow me to come and call on you from time to time.'
'Come as often as you like, between five and six, and from eleven to midnight. I say, Gaston, do play the Invitation to the Waltz!'
'Why?'
'Firstly because I should like it, and secondly because I can never manage to play it when I'm by myself.'
'What do you find difficult with it?'
'The third part, the passage with the sharps.'
Gaston got to his feet, sat down at the piano and began to play Weber's splendid melody, the music of which lay open of the stand.
Marguerite, with on hand resting on the piano, looked at the score, her eyes following each note which she accompanied in a soft singing voice and, when Gaston reached the passage which she had mentioned, she hummed it and played it with her fingers on the back of the piano:
'Re, mi, re, doh, re, fa, mi, re...that's the part I can't get. Again.'
Gaston played it again, after which Marguerite said to him:
'Now let me try.'
She took his place and played in turn; but still her stubborn fingers tripped over one or other of the notes which we have just mentioned.
'It's inconceivable, ' she said with a quite childlike ring in her voice, 'that I can't manage to play this passage! You won't believe it, but sometimes I sit up working on it until two in the morning! And when I think that fool of a Count can play it without music, and admirably well at that, then I do believe that's why I get so cross with him.'
And she began again, and still with the same result.
'The hell with Weber, music and pianos!' she said, flinging the score to the other end of the room. 'Would anybody believe that I simply can't play eight sharps in a row?'
And she crossed her arms, glaring at us and stamping her foot.
The blood rushed to her cheeks and a small cough parted her lips.
'Come now, ' said Prudence, who had removed her hat and was smoothing her hair in a mirror, 'you'll only get angry an make yourself ill. Let's have supper. It's much the best thing: I'm absolutely starving.'
Marguerite rang again, then she turned back to the piano and began quietly crooning a squalid song ?without making any mistakes in the accompaniment.
Gaston knew the song, and they truned it into a sort of duet.
'I really wish you wouldn't sing such vulgar rubbish, ' I said to Marguerite casually, making it sound like a request.
'Oh, how innocent you are!' she said, smiling and holding out her hand to me.
'It's not for my sake but yours.'
Marguerite made a gesture which meant: 'Oh! it's a long time since I had anything to do with innocence.'
At this juncture, Nanine appeared.
'Is supper ready?' asked Marguerite.
'Yes, madame, in just a moment.'
'By the by, ' Prudence said to me, 'you haven't seen round the apartment. Come, I'll show you.'
As you know, the drawing-room was a marvel.
Marguerite came with us for a few steps, then she called Gaston and went with him into the dining-room to see if supper was ready.
'Hullo!' cried Prudence loudly, looking at the contents of a shelf from which she picked up a Dresden figurine, 'I didn't know you had this little chap!'
'Which one?'
'The shepherd boy holding a cage with a bird in it.'
'You can have it if you like it.'
'Oh! but I couldn't deprive you of him.'
'I wanted to give it to my maid, I think it's hideous. But since you like it, take it.'
Prudence saw only the gift and not the manner in which it was given. She put her shepherd boy to one side, and led me into the dressing-room where she showed me two miniatures which made a pair and said:
'That's Count de G who was madly in love with Marguerite. He's the one who made her name. Do you know him?'
'No. And who's this?' I asked, pointing to the other miniature.
'That's the young Vicomte de L. He had to go away.'
'Why?'
'Because he was just about ruined. Now there was somebody who really loved Marguerite!'
'And I imagine she loved him very much?'
'She's such a funny girl, you never know where you are with her. The evening of the day he went away, she went to the theatre as usual, and yet she had cried when he said goodbye.'
Just then Nanine appeared, and announced that supper was served.
When we went into the dining- room, Marguerite was leaning against one wall and Gaston, who was holding both her hands, was whispering to her.
'You're mad, ' Marguerite was saying to him, 'you know perfectly well that I don't want anything to do with you. You can't wait two years after getting to know a woman like me before asking to be her lover. Women like me give ourselves at once or never. Come, gentlemen, let's eat!'
And, slipping out of Gaston's grasp, Marguerite sat him on her right, me on her left, and then said to Nanine:
'Before you sit down, go to the kitchen and tell them they're not to answer the door if anyone rings.'
This order was given at one in the morning.
We laughed, we drank, we ate a great deal at that supperparty. Within minutes, the merriment had sunk to the lowest level, and witticisms of the kind which certain smart circles find so amusing and never fail to defile the lips of those who utter them, erupted periodically to be greeted with loud acclamations by Nanine, Prudence and Marguerite. Gaston was enjoying himself unreservedly: he was a young man whose heart was in the right place, but his mind had been a little warped by the kind of people he had mixed with in his early days. At one point, I had opted to steel myself, to make my heart and my thoughts immune to the spectacle before my eyes, and to contribute my share to the jollity which seemed to be a dish on the menu. But, little by little, I cut myself off from the uproar, my glass had stayed full and I had grown almost sad as I watched this beautiful creature of twenty drink, talk like a stevedore, and laugh all the louder as what was said became more shocking.
But the merriment, this way of talking and drinking which seemed to me to be in the other guests the effects of dissoluteness, habit and duress, appeared with Marguerite to be a need to forget, a restlessness, a nervous reaction. With each glass of champagne, her cheeks took on a feverish flush, and a cough, which had been nothing at the start of supper, eventually became sufficiently troublesome to force her head against the back of her chair and make her hold her chest with both hands each time the coughing seized her.
I felt the pain which these daily excesses must have inflicted upon so frail a constitution.
At length happened a thing which I had foreseen and dreaded. Towards the end of supper, Marguerite was taken with a fit of coughing much stronger than any she had had while I had been there. It was as though her chest was being torn to pieces from the inside. The poor girl turned purple, closed her eyes with the pain, and put her lips to a serviette which turned red with a splash of blood. Then she got up and ran into her dressing-room.
'What's up with Marguerite?' asked Gaston.
'What's up with her is that she's been laughing too much and is spitting blood, ' said Prudence. 'Oh, it won't be anything, it happens every day. She'll come back. Let's just leave her alone. She prefers it that way.'
For my part, I could bear it no longer and, to the great astonishment of Prudence and Nanine who called me back, I went in to join Marguerite.