"And now I hope," the Colonel went on, "that you will tell me if you
know a charming little woman who is sitting under a huge
candelabrum----"
At these words the Count's face lighted up; he violently seized the
Colonel's hand: "My dear General," said he, in a perceptibly altered
voice, "if any man but you had asked me such a question, I would have
cracked his skull with this mass of gold. Leave me, I entreat you. I
feel more like blowing out my brains this evening, I assure you, than
----I hate everything I see. And, in fact, I am going. This gaiety,
this music, these stupid faces, all laughing, are killing me!"
"My poor friend!" replied Montcornet gently, and giving the Count's
hand a friendly pressure, "you are too vehement. What would you say if
I told you that Martial is thinking so little of Madame de Vaudremont
that he is quite smitten with that little lady?"
"If he says a word to her," cried Soulanges, stammering with rage, "I
will thrash him as flat as his own portfolio, even if the coxcomb were
in the Emperor's lap!"
And he sank quite overcome on an easy-chair to which Montcornet had
led him.
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