Well, she was furious! At this moment I am
desperately in love with the youngest and handsomest of our
prima-donnas, Mademoiselle Falcon of the Grand Opera. I think of
marrying her; yes, I have got as far as that. When you come to Paris
you will see that I have changed a marquise for a queen."
Calyste, whose candid face revealed his satisfaction, admitted his
love for Beatrix, which was all that Conti wanted to discover. There
is no man in the world, however /blase/ or depraved he may be, whose
love will not flame up again the moment he sees it threatened by a
rival. He may wish to leave a woman, but he will never willingly let
her leave him. When a pair of lovers get to this extremity, both the
man and the woman strive for priority of action, so deep is the wound
to their vanity. Questioned by the composer, Calyste related all that
had happened during the last three weeks at Les Touches, delighted to
find that Conti, who concealed his fury under an appearance of
charming good-humor, took it all in good part.
"Come, let us go upstairs," said the latter.
Pages:
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362