His attention was so absorbed by what he had just heard
that he could not fix his mind upon the object of his mission; and
he only abandoned his conjectures on hearing a rustling of skirts
against the panels of the door leading into the hall.
The next moment Madame Lia d'Argeles entered the room. She was
arrayed in a very elegant dressing-gown of gray cashmere, with
blue satin trimmings, her hair was beautifully arranged, and she
had neglected none of the usual artifices of the toilette-table;
still any one would have considered her to be over forty years of
age. Her sad face wore an expression of melancholy resignation;
and there were signs of recent tears in her swollen eyes,
surrounded by bluish circles. She glanced at her visitor, and, in
anything but an encouraging tone exclaimed: "You desired to speak
with me, I believe?"
M. Fortunat bowed, almost disconcerted. He had expected to meet
one of those stupid, ignorant young women, who make themselves
conspicuous at the afternoon promenade in the Bois de Boulogne;
and he found himself in the presence of an evidently cultivated
and imperious woman, who, even in her degradation, retained all
her pride of race, and awed him, despite all his coolness and
assurance. "I do, indeed, madame, wish to confer with you
respecting some important interests," he answered.
She sank on to a chair; and, without asking her visitor to take a
seat: "Explain yourself," she said, briefly.
Pages:
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331