She ought to be delighted with her success,--in fact,
I have no doubt she is vain of it; I should be so in her place
--immensely. She was never a woman of any mind, but she may now pass
for one of genius. I am sure you will describe her in one of those
delightful novels you write. And pray don't forget Vandenesse; put him
in to please me. Really, his self-sufficiency is too much. I can't
stand that Jupiter Olympian air of his,--the only mythological
character exempt, they say, from ill-luck."
"Madame," cried Raoul, "you rate my soul very low if you think me
capable of trafficking with my feelings, my affections. Rather than
commit such literary baseness, I would do as they do in England,--put
a rope round a woman's neck and sell her in the market."
"But I know Marie; she would like you to do it."
"She is incapable of liking it," said Raoul, vehemently.
"Oh! then you do know her well?"
Nathan laughed; he, the maker of scenes, to be trapped into playing
one himself!
"Comedy is no longer there," he said, nodding at the stage; "it is
here, in you."
He took his opera-glass and looked about the theatre to recover
countenance.
"You are not angry with me, I hope?" said the marquise, giving him a
sidelong glance. "I should have had your secret somehow. Let us make
peace. Come and see me; I receive every Wednesday, and I am sure the
dear countess will never miss an evening if I let her know you will be
there.
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