Her eyes met the Duke's enquiring but not
altogether pleasant glance. With a quick gesture the girl clasped her
mantle about her, and haughtily moved away without acknowledging the
Duke's bow.
Neither M. nor Madame Darbois had seen anything of what had just
passed.
The Duke de Morlay's bad humour vented itself against Count Styvens.
"I have just passed the Darbois in the cloak-room. The little flirt
was in a pitiful state: I helped her on with her cloak and her skin
was like ice."
Count Styvens turned almost in anger and his hands furtively opened
and closed. A feeling of enmity was rising in his generous soul. He
felt that the Duke had spoken slightingly of Esperance to wound him.
Twice, during dinner, he had caught the covetous glance of the Duke
fixed on Esperance, and he had suffered acutely in consequence. He
looked at the Duke coldly; his shyness would have made him dumb had it
not been for the sustaining power of his anger.
"I cannot reply to you now," he said. "My mother is here."
The Duke de Morlay-La-Branche, who was, after all, a gentleman, came
up to him.
"Albert, I am a fool. I beg your pardon."
And he went to take his leave of the Princess, who had quietly
witnessed and understood the pantomime that had passed between these
two men.
"You did right, my friend," she said to the Duke. "Albert is a brave
and loyal fellow."
"He is an idiot," he replied, "whose idiocy we must respect.
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