Mme Chantereau was gazing
with a stupefied expression at the garden, which struck her as immense.
Presently there was a sound of low voices, and the corner gave vent to
all sorts of bitter reflections.
"I declare," murmured Mme Chantereau, "just fancy if the countess were
to return to life. Why, can you not imagine her coming in among all
these crowds of people! And then there's all this gilding and this
uproar! It's scandalous!"
"Sabine's out of her senses," replied Mme du Joncquoy. "Did you see her
at the door? Look, you can catch sight of her here; she's wearing all
her diamonds."
For a moment or two they stood up in order to take a distant view of the
count and countess. Sabine was in a white dress trimmed with marvelous
English point lace. She was triumphant in beauty; she looked young
and gay, and there was a touch of intoxication in her continual smile.
Beside her stood Muffat, looking aged and a little pale, but he, too,
was smiling in his calm and worthy fashion.
"And just to think that he was once master," continued Mme Chantereau,
"and that not a single rout seat would have come in without his
permission! Ah well, she's changed all that; it's her house now. D'you
remember when she did not want to do her drawing room up again? She's
done up the entire house.
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