"Well, on my word--yes. By Jove! I congratulate you; you have indeed
changed in the last six months!"
He flushed scarlet, and said, with an embarrassed laugh:
"One can but do one's best."
I looked at him so obstinately that he evidently felt uncomfortable,
so I went on:
"So--now--you are--completely cured?"
He stammered, hastily:
"Yes, perfectly, thank you." Then changing his tone, "How lucky that I
should have come across you, old fellow. I hope we shall see each other
often now."
But I would not give up my idea; I wanted to know how matters really
stood, so I asked:
"Don't you remember what you told me six months ago? I suppose--I--eh--suppose
you resist now?"
"Please don't talk any more about it," he replied, uneasily; "forget
that I mentioned it to you; leave me alone. But, you know, I have no
intention of letting you go; you must come and dine at my house."
A sudden fancy took me to see for myself how matters stood, so that I
might understand all about it, and I accepted. Two hours later he
introduced me to his home.
His wife received me in a most charming manner, and she was, as a matter
of fact, a most attractive woman. She looked guileless, distinguished and
adorably naïve. Her long hands, her neck, and cheeks were beautifully
white and delicate, and marked her breeding, and her walk was undulating
and delightful, as if her leg gave slightly at each step.
René gave her a brotherly kiss on the forehead and said:
"Has not Lucien come yet?"
"Not yet," she replied, in a clear, soft voice; "you know he is almost
always rather late."
At that moment the bell rang, and a tall man was shown in. He was dark,
with a thick beard, and looked like a society Hercules. We were introduced
to each other; his name was Lucien Delabarre.
René and he shook hands in a most friendly manner, and then we went to
dinner.
It was a most enjoyable meal, without the least constraint. My old
friend spoke with me constantly, in the old familiar cordial manner, just
as he used to do. It was: "You know, old fellow!"--"I say, old
fellow!"--"Just listen a moment, old fellow!" Suddenly he exclaimed:
"You don't know how glad I am to see you again; it takes me back to old
times."
I looked at his wife and the other man. Their attitude was perfectly
correct, though I fancied once or twice that they exchanged a rapid and
furtive look.
As soon as dinner was over René turned to his wife, and said:
"My dear, I have just met Pierre again, and I am going to carry him off
for a walk and a chat along the boulevards to remind us of old times.
You will excuse this bachelor spree. I am leaving Mr. Delabarre with you."
The young woman smiled, and said to me, as she shook hands with me:
"Don't keep him too long."
As we went along, arm-in-arm, I could not help saying to him, for I was
determined to know how matters stood:
"What has happened? Do tell me!"
He, however, interrupted me roughly, and answered like a man who has
been disturbed without any reason.
"Just look here, old fellow; leave me alone with your questions."
Then he added, half aloud, as if talking to himself:
"After all, it would have been too stupid to have let oneself go to
perdition like that."
I did not press him. We walked on quickly and began to talk. All of a
sudden he whispered in my ear:
"I say, suppose we go and see the girls! Eh?"