"You naughty fellow," she said, "I have not seen you in the Bois for
three days!"
"It was from motives of prudence," I replied. "And now prepare yourself
for a surprise. Your new house is ready and you can go there the day
after to-morrow."
"Do you really mean it?" exclaimed she, "Oh! what happiness! Then you
find me sufficiently Europeanized?"
"You coquette! you are adorable!----What a nice fan you have,
mademoiselle!" added I, changing my manner as Maud came close to us.
"Do you think so," she answered, "Is it Chinese or Japanese?"
Maud having passed we resumed our conversation, overjoyed at the idea of
constantly seeing each other again. The waltz was just ending and I was
obliged to conduct Kondjé-Gul back to my aunt.
"Listen!" she remarked, "whenever I put my fan up to my lips, that will
mean 'I love you'----You must come back soon to invite me for another
dance, won't you?"
"My dear girl, I can't."
"Why?"
"Because it is not usual, and would be remarked," I replied.
"But I don't want to dance with anyone else!" she said, almost with a
terrified look.
I had not for once thought of this very natural consequence of our
little adventure, and I must confess that the idea of anyone else asking
her after me took me quite by surprise--like some improbability which no
mortal could conceive.
"What shall I do?" she said.
It was necessary at all costs to repair the effects of our imprudence. I
invented for her a sudden indisposition, a dizziness which obliged her
to leave off waltzing, and I conducted her back to my aunt. This pretext
would be sufficient to justify her in declining to dance for the rest of
the evening.
I know very well, my dear fellow, that you will cry out against me when
I tell you of this strange feeling which pierced me suddenly like a
thorn in the heart, at the notion of seeing Kondjé-Gul dance with
another man. But how could I help it?
I simply relate to you a psychological fact and nothing more.
You may tell me, if you like, that this is a ridiculous exaggeration,
and that I am giving myself the morose airs of a jealous sultan. The
truth is that in my harem life, I have contracted prudish alarms and
real susceptibilities which are excited by things which would not have
affected me formerly. Contact with the outside world will, no doubt,
restore me to the calm frame of mind enjoyed by every good husband.
Perhaps some day I may even be able to feel pride as I watch my wife
with naked arms and shoulders whirling round the room in the amorous
embrace of a hussar. At present my temper is less complaisant: my love
is a master's love, and the notion that any man could venture to press
my Kondjé-Gul's little finger would be enough to throw me into a fit of
rage. That's what we Orientals are like, you know!