"
"On the contrary, I am listening intently," she said. "I will tell you
later why I feel desirous to know the truth of all this."
"You shall know it," said Vandenesse. "If you stay masked I will take
you to supper with Nathan and Florine; it would be rather amusing for
a woman of your rank to fool an actress after bewildering the wits of
a clever man about these important facts; you can harness them both to
the same hoax. I'll make some inquiries about Nathan's infidelities,
and if I discover any of his recent adventures you shall enjoy the
sight of a courtesan's fury; it is magnificent. Florine will boil and
foam like an Alpine torrent; she adores Nathan; he is everything to
her; she clings to him like flesh to the bones or a lioness to her
cubs. I remember seeing, in my youth, a celebrated actress (who wrote
like a scullion) when she came to a friend of mine to demand her
letters. I have never seen such a sight again, such calm fury, such
insolent majesty, such savage self-control-- Are you ill, Marie?"
"No; they have made too much fire." The countess turned away and threw
herself on a sofa. Suddenly, with an unforeseen movement, impelled by
the horrible anguish of her jealousy, she rose on her trembling legs,
crossed her arms, and came slowly to her husband.
"What do you know?" she asked. "You are not a man to torture me; you
would crush me without making me suffer if I were guilty.
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