a word to Adolphe
of my dress; I wanted it to be a surprise, goose that I was! Oh, how
brutally you men take away our blessed ignorance!"
This remark is meant for me, for me who had taken nothing from the
lady, neither tooth, nor anything whatever of the things with a name and
without a name that may be taken from a woman.
"I must tell you that my husband took me to Madame de Fischtaminel's,
where I dined quite often. I heard her say to him, 'Why, your wife
looks very well!' She had a patronizing way with me that I put up with:
Adolphe wished that I could have her wit and preponderance in society.
In short, this phoenix of women was my model. I studied and copied her,
I took immense pains not to be myself--oh!--it was a poem that no one
but us women can understand! Finally, the day of my triumph dawned. My
heart beat for joy, as if I were a child, as if I were what we all are
at twenty-two. My husband was going to call for me for a walk in the
Tuileries: he came in, I looked at him radiant with joy, but he took
no notice. Well, I can confess it now, it was one of those frightful
disasters--but I will say nothing about it--this gentleman here would
make fun of me."
I protest by another movement.
"It was," she goes on, for a woman never stops till she has told the
whole of a thing, "as if I had seen an edifice built by a fairy crumble
into ruins. Adolphe manifested not the slightest surprise. We got into
the carriage. Adolphe noticed my sadness, and asked me what the matter
was: I replied as we always do when our hearts are wrung by these petty
vexations, 'Oh, nothing!' Then he took his eye-glass, and stared at the
promenaders on the Champs Elysees, for we were to go the rounds of the
Champs Elysees, before taking our walk at the Tuileries. Finally, a fit
of impatience seized me. I felt a slight attack of fever, and when I
got home, I composed myself to smile. 'You haven't said a word about
my dress!' I muttered. 'Ah, yes, your gown is somewhat like Madame de
Fischtaminel's.' He turned on his heel and went away.
"The next day I pouted a little, as you may readily imagine. Just as we
were finishing breakfast by the fire in my room--I shall never forget
it--the embroideress called to get her money for the neckerchief. I
paid her. She bowed to my husband as if she knew him. I ran after her
on pretext of getting her to receipt the bill, and said: 'You didn't
ask _him_ so much for Madame de Fischtaminel's kerchief!'
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