"You naughty fellow," she said, "I have not seen you in the Bois for

three days!"

"It was from motives of prudence," I replied. "And now prepare yourself

for a surprise. Your new house is ready and you can go there the day

after to-morrow."

"Do you really mean it?" exclaimed she, "Oh! what happiness! Then you

find me sufficiently Europeanized?"

"You coquette! you are adorable!----What a nice fan you have,

mademoiselle!" added I, changing my manner as Maud came close to us.

"Do you think so," she answered, "Is it Chinese or Japanese?"

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Maud having passed we resumed our conversation, overjoyed at the idea of

constantly seeing each other again. The waltz was just ending and I was

obliged to conduct Kondjé-Gul back to my aunt.

"Listen!" she remarked, "whenever I put my fan up to my lips, that will

mean 'I love you'----You must come back soon to invite me for another

dance, won't you?"

"My dear girl, I can't."

"Why?"

"Because it is not usual, and would be remarked," I replied.

"But I don't want to dance with anyone else!" she said, almost with a

terrified look.

I had not for once thought of this very natural consequence of our

little adventure, and I must confess that the idea of anyone else asking

her after me took me quite by surprise--like some improbability which no

mortal could conceive.

"What shall I do?" she said.

It was necessary at all costs to repair the effects of our imprudence. I

invented for her a sudden indisposition, a dizziness which obliged her

to leave off waltzing, and I conducted her back to my aunt. This pretext

would be sufficient to justify her in declining to dance for the rest of

the evening.

I know very well, my dear fellow, that you will cry out against me when

I tell you of this strange feeling which pierced me suddenly like a

thorn in the heart, at the notion of seeing Kondjé-Gul dance with

another man. But how could I help it?

I simply relate to you a psychological fact and nothing more.

You may tell me, if you like, that this is a ridiculous exaggeration,

and that I am giving myself the morose airs of a jealous sultan. The

truth is that in my harem life, I have contracted prudish alarms and

real susceptibilities which are excited by things which would not have

affected me formerly. Contact with the outside world will, no doubt,

restore me to the calm frame of mind enjoyed by every good husband.

Perhaps some day I may even be able to feel pride as I watch my wife

with naked arms and shoulders whirling round the room in the amorous

embrace of a hussar. At present my temper is less complaisant: my love

is a master's love, and the notion that any man could venture to press

my Kondjé-Gul's little finger would be enough to throw me into a fit of

rage. That's what we Orientals are like, you know!




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