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The curtains were hermetically closed, and for a moment the external world did not exist for us. Nanine alone had the right to open our door, but only to bring in our meals and even these we took without getting up, interrupting them with laughter and gaiety.
We went back joyously to Bougival, talking over our projects for the future, which, thanks to our heedlessness, and especially to our love, we saw in the rosiest light. A week later, as we were having lunch, Nanine came to tell us that my servant was asking for me. "Let him come in," I said.
Besides, he will come soon and take you away. And to Nanine I said 'Englishman will be so angry with you and with me, perhaps he will kill you or tell the police if you do not keep me for him. And when the money came Nanine was quite pleased and said perhaps you would pay more when you came, so she did not worry me with Chinamen or any one, and I've had this room all to myself since I've been here.
I asked Nanine if, during my absence, her mistress had received any letter or visit which could account for the state in which I found her, but Nanine replied that no one had called and nothing had been sent. Something, however, had occurred since the day before, something which troubled me the more because Marguerite concealed it from me.
"No, we will have supper here." She rang, and Nanine appeared. "Send for some supper." "What must I get?" "Whatever you like, but at once, at once." Nanine went out. "That's it," said Marguerite, jumping like a child, "we'll have supper. How tiresome that idiot of a count is!" The more I saw her, the more she enchanted me. She was exquisitely beautiful. Her slenderness was a charm.
Without adding another word, or listening to what the young man stammered out, Marguerite returned to the room and slammed the door. Nanine entered a moment after. "Now understand," said Marguerite, "you are always to say to that idiot that I am not in, or that I will not see him.
Two hours afterward I was still sitting on the side of the bed, looking at the pillow which kept the imprint of her form, and asking myself what was to become of me, between my love and my jealousy. At five o'clock, without knowing what I was going to do, I went to the Rue d'Antin. Nanine opened to me. "Madame can not receive you," she said in an embarrassed way. "Why?"
On the first evening of the king's arrival Francezka had a splendid triumph. Monsieur Voltaire gave Nanine in the theater of the castle, and Francezka was Nanine, somewhat to Madame du Châtelet's disgust, I fancy. And for the after piece was The Tattler, with the greatest cast the world ever saw: Francezka as Hortensia, Monsieur Voltaire as Pasquin, and Count Saxe himself as Clitander.
Voltaire, who could never rightly succeed in Comedy, gave in his Enfant Prodigue and Nanine a mixture of comic scenes and affecting situations, the latter of which are deserving of high praise. The affecting drama had been before attempted in France by La Chaussee. All this was in verse: and why not?
When she was a little calmed down, I told her the result of my visit, and I showed her my father's letter, from which, I said, we might augur well. At the sight of the letter and on hearing my comment, her tears began to flow so copiously that I feared an attack of nerves, and, calling Nanine, I put her to bed, where she wept without a word, but held my hands and kissed them every moment.
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