You!"

"Yes, I. What, haven't you heard of it, yet? It has been talked of at
the club for three days or more."

"No, this is the first intimation I have received of it. It is true,
however, that I have not been to the club for three days. I have made a
wager with Kami-Bey, you know--that rich Turk--and as our sittings are
eight or ten hours long, we play in his apartments at the Grand Hotel.
And so you are to be married," the baron continued, after a slight
pause. "Ah, well! I know one person who won't be pleased."

"Who, pray?"

"Ninette Simplon."

M. de Valorsay laughed heartily. "As if that would make any difference
to me!" he exclaimed. And then in a most confidential manner he resumed:
"She will soon be consoled. Ninette Simplon is a shrewd girl--a girl
whom I have always suspected of having an account book in place of a
heart. I know she has at least three hundred thousand francs safely
invested; her furniture and diamonds are worth as much more. Why should
she regret me? Add to this that I have promised her fifty thousand
francs to dry her tears with on my wedding-day, and you will understand
that she really longs to see me married."

"I understand," replied the baron; "Ninette Simplon won't trouble you.
But I can't understand why you should talk of economy on the eve of a
marriage which will no doubt double your fortune; for I'm sure you won't
surrender your liberty without good and substantial reasons."

"You are mistaken."

"How mistaken?"

"Well, I won't hesitate to confess to you, my dear baron, that the girl
I am about to marry hasn't a penny of her own. My future wife has no
dowry save her black eyes--but they are certainly superb ones."

This assertion seemed to disprove Pascal's statements. "Can it really be
you who are talking in this strain?" cried the baron. "You, a practical,
worldly man, give way to such a burst of sentiment?"

"Well, yes."

The baron opened his eyes in astonishment. "Ah! then you adore your
future bride!"

"Adore only feebly expresses my feelings."

"I must be dreaming."

Valorsay shrugged his shoulders with the air of a man who has made up
his mind to accept the banter of his friends; and in a tone of mingled
sentimentality and irony, he said: "I know that it's absurd, and that
I shall be the laughing-stock of my acquaintances. Still it doesn't
matter; I have never been coward enough to hide my feelings. I'm in
love, my dear baron, as madly in love as a young c