ever, and if there had been a box at
the Bouffes-Parisiens, or if you had won at bezique, my marriage with M.
de Courtalin would have been publicly announced the next day."

"Yes, but I came; and there I was in the corner looking at you, looking
at you, looking at you. It was you, and yet not you--"

"I, immediately on seeing the way you were looking at me, understood
that something extraordinary was going to happen. Your eyes shone,
burned, blazed!"

"Because I had discovered that you were simply the prettiest woman of
the ball, where all the prettiest women of Paris were. Yes, the
prettiest, and such shoulders, such shoulders!"

"Ripe! in fact, I was ripe!"

"My head was turned at once. I saw Courtalin manoeuvring and trying to
get near you. I understood that there was not a moment to be lost. To
reach there ahead of Courtalin I threw myself intrepidly into the midst
of the room, among the waltzers, pushing and being pushed. I forged a
passage and tore into rags one of the lace flounces of Mme. de
Lornans--she hasn't yet forgiven me. But I got there--I got there before
Courtalin, and threw myself on you, and took you round your waist (I can
still hear your little cry), and I dragged you off."

"Mamma had scarcely time to scream 'Marceline, Marceline!' when I was
there no more. He had lifted me off, and carried me away; and we were
waltzing wildly, furiously!--oh, what a waltz!--and he was saying to me:
'I love you! I adore you! You are grace and beauty itself! There is only
one pretty woman here--you; and it is I who will be your husband. I, do
you hear? I, and not another!' And I, quite suffocated with surprise,
pleasure, and emotion, allowed myself to be nearly carried by him, but I
kept begging him to speak lower. 'Anything you wish; yes, I will be your
wife; but take care--you will be heard--you will be heard.'"

"That is what I wished; and I continued, 'I love you! I adore you!'"

"Then I, absolutely breathless: 'Not so fast. I pray, not so fast; I
shall fall. I assure you everything is going round, everything is going
round. Let us stop.' 'No, no; don't let's stop. Keep on still. If we
stop your mother will separate us, and I have still so many things to
say to you--so many things, so many things. Swear to me that you will be
my wife.' 'Yes, I swear it; but enough, enough--' I was smothering. He
heard nothing. He was going, going like a madman. We had become a
hurricane, a whirlwind, a cyclone. We caused