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Updated: May 1, 2025
Fontenelle scarcely acknowledged the salutation, he was too much annoyed. He considered it a piece of insolence on Miraudin's part to have addressed him at all without previous introduction. It was true that the famous actor was permitted a license not granted to the ordinary individual, as indeed most actors are.
Ruspardi, young and hotblooded, was of too mercurial a disposition to anticipate any really serious results of the night's adventure; his contempt for a coward was far greater than his fear of death, and he was delighted to think that in all probability the Marquis would use his riding-whip on Miraudin's back rather than honour him by a pistol shot.
A head was thrust out of the carriage window, Miraudin's head, and Miraudin's voice shouted in bad Italian, "What are you stopping for, rascal! On with you! On with you! Five hundred francs for your best speed!" Scarcely had he uttered the words when the Marquis gained the side of the vehicle, and pulling up his horse till it almost fell in rearing backwards, he cried furiously, "Lache!
The same clean-shaven classic face and clustering hair, the same glittering, amorous hazel eyes; the same charming and kindly smile, all these attributes were in Miraudin's face, indefinably coarsened, while in Fontenelle's they remained refined and inicative of the highest breeding.
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