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We will have a jolly dinner at the Café Anglais
and then I will take you to the Palais Royal to
see ‘Une nuit de noces.’ It is a most charming
play, very rigolo indeed, I have seen it already
four times but I should love to see it again with
you at my side. The bed stands in the middle
of the stage with the lover hidden under it and
the bridegroom who is an old . . .”
The Count, visibly annoyed, made a sign to
his wife and we stood up from the table.
“I could never kill a skylark,” said the Count
drily.
“No, my dear Robert,” roared the Vicomte,
“I know you couldn’t, you would miss it!”
I went up to my room almost in tears with
suppressed rage and shame of having suppressed
it. While I was packing my bag, the Abbé
entered the room. I begged him to tell the Count
I had been summoned to Paris and was obliged
to take the midnight train.
“I never want to set my eyes upon this
confounded brute any more or I will smash his
insolent monocle out of his empty head!”
“You had better not attempt anything of the
sort or he would kill you outright. It is quite
true he is a famous shot, I do not know how many
duels he has fought, he is always quarrelling with
people, he has a very nasty tongue. All I ask
of you is to keep your nerves in hand for
thirty-six hours. He is going away to-morrow night
for the tournament in Paris, and let me tell you,
entre nous, that I shall be as glad to see him go
as you are.”
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