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56 THE CONFESSION OF A FOOL
she was dressed in a diaphanous silk frock, yellow, like
ripe corn, with a mauve stripe, reminiscent of pansies ; this
was her favourite combination of colours. The well-cut
dress suited her girlish figure to perfection, and emphasised
the beautiful contour of the shoulders and the curve of the
exquisitely modelled arms.
I handed her my bunch of roses, wishing her many happy
returns of the day ; I also took good care to put all the
blame for our rude impatience on the Baron.
When her eyes fell on the disordered table, she pursed
up her lips and addressed a remark to her husband which
was more stinging than humorous ; he was not slow to reply
to the undeserved rebuke. I threw myself into the breach
by recalling the incidents of the previous day which I had
already discussed with the Baron.
"And what d’you think of my charming cousin?"
asked the Baroness.
"She’s very amiable," I replied.
" Don’t you agree with me, my dear fellow, that the
child is a perfect treasure?" exclaimed the Baron, in a
voice which expressed parental solicitude, sincere devotion
and pity for this imp of Satan, supposed to be martyred
by imaginary tyrants.
But in spite of the stress laid by her husband on the
word "child," the Baroness continued mercilessly
—
"Just look how that dear Baby has changed the style
in which my husband does his hair!
"
The parting which the Baron had been accustomed to
wear had indeed disappeared. Instead of it, his hair was
dressed in the manner of the young students, his mous-
tache waxed—a style which did not suit him. Through
an association of ideas, my attention was drawn to the fact
—which, however, I kept to myself—that the Baroness,
too, had adopted from the charming cousin certain details
of dressing her hair, of wearing her clothes, of manner
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