One evening at one of our little parties at the Montagues, which had

begun as a concert, but was converted by us, in our gay and sociable

mood, into a dance, Maud had trotted me off to make up a quadrille.

Kondjé-Gul, who, as you know, never dances, had withdrawn into the

boudoir adjoining the drawing-room, where she was looking through the

albums. I suspected nothing, and was engaged in a frivolous conversation

with Maud, when from where I stood, through the glass partition which

separated the two rooms, I noticed Kiusko come and sit down by her side.

It was natural enough that, seeing her alone, he considered himself

bound not to leave her so, for that might have looked like a want of

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politeness on his part. It seemed to me, moreover, from their faces,

that their conversation was upon indifferent topics, and was being

conducted in that tone of ordinary friendliness which was usual between

them.

He was turning over the pages of an album as he talked to her. I had no

reason to pay much attention to this tête-à-tête, and was not even

intending to follow it, but once, near the end of the quadrille, my eyes

being again turned by chance in Kondjé-Gul's direction, I saw her rise

up all of a sudden, as if something that Daniel had said had excited her

suddenly. I thought I saw her blush, raising her head proudly and

answering him in an offended tone.

The dance being now over, I left Maud, and, agitated by an anxious kind

of feeling, walked up to the boudoir. They were standing up, and

Kiusko's back being turned to the door, he did not see me enter.

Kondjé-Gul saw me and said: "André, come and give me your arm!"

At this unusually bold request, Daniel could not repress a gesture of

astonishment, and cast a bewildered glance at me. I advanced, and she

seized my arm with a convulsive movement, and addressed herself to my

rival: "This is the second time, sir, that you have declared your love to me.

Let me tell you why I decline it: I am the slave of Monsieur André de

Peyrade, and I love him!"

If a thunderbolt had fallen at Daniel's feet, it could not have startled

him more than this. He turned so pale that I thought he was going to

faint. He gazed at both of us with a desperate and ferocious look, as if

some terrible thought was revolving in his mind. His features were

contracted into such a savage expression that I instinctively placed

myself between him and Kondjé-Gul. But, all at once, frightened no doubt

at his own passion, he gave one glance of despair and rage, and fled

from the room. Kondjé-Gul was all of a tremble.




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