"
"Martial, your fatuity cries out for a lesson. What! you, a civilian,
and so lucky as to be the husband-designate of Madame de Vaudremont, a
widow of two-and-twenty, burdened with four thousand napoleons a year
--a woman who slips such a diamond as this on your finger," he added,
taking the lawyer's left hand, which the young man complacently
allowed; "and, to crown all, you affect the Lovelace, just as if you
were a colonel and obliged to keep up the reputation of the military
in home quarters! Fie, fie! Only think of all you may lose."
"At any rate, I shall not lose my liberty," replied Martial, with a
forced laugh.
He cast a passionate glance at Madame de Vaudremont, who responded
only by a smile of some uneasiness, for she had seen the Colonel
examining the lawyer's ring.
"Listen to me, Martial. If you flutter round my young stranger, I
shall set to work to win Madame de Vaudremont."
"You have my full permission, my dear Cuirassier, but you will not
gain this much," and the young Maitre des Requetes put his polished
thumb-nail under an upper tooth with a little mocking click.
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