Gamiani, or Two Passionate Nights. Alfred Louis Charles de Musset-Pathay

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СКАЧАТЬ me, and I declared I would no longer go down when he called. But I was ​soon given to understand that I was no longer my own mistress. I began to positively hate the fat woman, I went down in a perfect fury, and without giving him the time to say a word, I began:

      "What do you want with me? What do you want to insist on seeing me for? The very sight of you disgusts me. If it's in your drunken nights that you write the beautiful things which I read this morning, I am really sorry for you, for the next morning you surely are not able to recognize the author, and that's a pity! It doesn't become you to slight women and run them down! You are less than a libertine, you are only a drunkard! If one woman has served you badly, that's no excuse for hating the others."

      "Perhaps you are right to disdain us, but in that case, let us alone!" I was rather worried as to how he would take this speech the beginning of which made him open his haggard eyes. But I soon had reason for calming my nerves, for he had dropped off to sleep in the armchair."

      I crept out on tiptoe.

      It appeared that he was not offended with me, for the next day he came and asked leave to take me out to dine with him. ​Madame quickly said he might do so, without consulting me. I comforted myself with the thought that he kept his vulgar eccentricities for inside the house, and that in other places he would show more self-respect.

      So the shameless libertine would give way to the man of taste, to the eminent writer. He came at six o'clock and took me to the celebrated restaurant the "Rocher de Cancale." I was simply dressed in a new hat and frock. I was pleased with my appearance; I did not feel quite so sad, because for the second time I had got away from that dreadful house. At first, there was not so much to complain of in his behaviour, except a few jokes of rather poor taste, which I reproved as well as I could.

      The waiter brought us a bottle of soda water.

      I could never have conceived the mad idea that had suddenly possessed this extraordinary man who had chosen me as the victim of his caprice. He took the bottle of soda water to open it as if he was going to drink some, turned it towards me, and drenched me with it from head to foot.

      There may be times in one's life and moments of good temper when one might have taken it for a joke. But I was so miserable ​that this seeming fit of madness set me in a rage.

I burst into a torrent of tears; my tears were the tears of anger. But the more I sobbed, the more he laughed.^[1]

      1 ↑ Farewell to the World, or Memoirs of Celeste Mogador, Countess Morton de Chabrillan.

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