ty. This explosion of gayety shut
Croustillac's mouth and he endeavored to smile, hoping thus to humor
Blue Beard.

This polite effort took the form of so grotesque a grimace that Angela
fell on the sofa, forgetting all rules of politeness, all dignity, and
abandoned herself to a mad fit of laughter; her beautiful blue eyes,
always so brilliant, were veiled in tears of amusement; her cheeks
became crimson and her charming dimples deepened to such an extent that
the widow could have hidden in their depths the entire end of her rosy
little finger.

Croustillac, much embarrassed, remained motionless before the pretty
widow, first contracting his eyebrows with an angry air, then, on the
contrary, he endeavored to relax his thin long face into a forced smile.
While these successive expressions did not tend to put an end to Blue
Beard's mirth, the chevalier said to himself that for a murderess, the
widow did not have such a gloomy and terrible appearance after all.
Nevertheless, the vanity of our adventurer could not easily brook the
singular effect which he had produced. For want of better conclusion he
ended by saying to himself that above all things he always struck the
imagination of women keenly; it was necessary at first to astonish them,
upset them, and that, in this respect, his first interview with Blue
Beard left nothing to be desired.

When he saw that the widow had become a little calmer, he said
resolutely, and with superbly bombastic manner, "I am sure you laugh,
madame, at all the despairing efforts that I make to prevent my poor
stolen heart from flying quickly to your feet. It is that which has
brought me here; I could not but follow, in spite of myself; yes,
madame, in spite of myself. I said to it, 'there, there, softly, softly,
my heart, it does not suffice, in order to please a divine beauty, to be
passionately loving,' but my little, or rather my great and rash, heart
replied ever by drawing me to you with all its strength; as if it had
been the steel and Devil's Cliff the magnet; my heart, I say, replied to
me, 'Reassure yourself, master; tender and valiant as you are, the love
that you feel shall cause the birth of a love which you shall share.'
But pardon me madame, the language of my heart makes me outrageously
impertinent--it is doubtless this impertinence which makes you laugh
anew."

"No, sir, no; your appearance diverts me to this great extent because
you resemble--ha! ha! ha!--in a strange