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Updated: May 1, 2025
"Whether it is that he cannot be fascinated with womenkind or holds some resentment concerning the past, I am not sure, but he is able to sun himself in the dazzle of Madame Lepelletier's charms with the most perfect friendly indifference that I ever saw.
Yet the preference has this effect upon him, to make him wish that another would try some delicate allurements. He is in a mood to be won to love, and Violet is fatally blind not to see that her day has come and take advantage of it. From this point the summer festivities go straight on. There are guests at Madame Lepelletier's and a series of charming entertainments.
"Oh," exclaims Eugene, springing up the steps two at a time, "here is Madame Lepelletier's satchel! You left it in the carriage," handing it to her. They are all relieved to actually hear her name. Laura leads her to the state chamber, which has been put in elegant order for a possible bride.
Laura and Gertrude bickered all the way over, and now, if Gertrude had enough courage and was aggressive by nature, she would retort, but peace is so good that she enjoys every precious moment of it; but at night, when Laura is lingering in Madame Lepelletier's room, while Arthur smokes the remnant of his cigar on the porch, she says, with a sort of ironical gayety,
It is the day before Madame Lepelletier's lunch, and has rained steadily, though now shows signs of breaking away. Violet is in Gertrude's room helping her look over some clothes. Marcia and her mother have quarrelled, and she sits here saying uncomfortable things to Gertrude, that might be painful if Gertrude were not used to it.
He could give up the seductive delights that have never been his, yet he has come to a time when home and love, wife and child, have a sacred meaning, and are the joys of a man's life. The garden parties begin to wane, but there is no lack of diversion for the young. Mr. Murray is not insensible to the charms of society, such as he finds at Madame Lepelletier's.
Denise would call it a sin, for she thinks every word and act of Mr. Grandon's exactly right. Then, somehow, she must be wrong. Are the books and poems all wrong? She prays to be kept from all sin, not to desire or covet what may not be meant for her. Oh, what a long, long evening! Floyd Grandon is a guest at Madame Lepelletier's table.
It would hurt Irene Lepelletier's amour propre to make herself conspicuous, to be held up to ridicule or blame. She does not care for marriage; her position is infinitely more delightful in its variety.
So at the last moment she has a headache and will not go to Madame Lepelletier's. Mrs. Grandon's invitation is for a week, and Eugene takes her down in the morning, and loiters most of the day in the seductive house.
"Would you like to go to a lunch or dinner at Madame Lepelletier's?" he asks. Violet considers a moment. She cannot tell why, but she longs for this pleasure alone with Mr. Grandon. It will be her first real enjoyment with him. "Would you rather?" There is an exquisite timidity in her voice, the touch of deference to the husband's wishes that cannot but be flattering. She will go if he desires it.
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