"
But the ladies grew silent, for Mme de Chezelles was entering the
room, followed by a band of young men. She was going into ecstasies and
marking her approval with a succession of little exclamations.
"Oh, it's delicious, exquisite! What taste!" And she shouted back to her
followers:
"Didn't I say so? There's nothing equal to these old places when one
takes them in hand. They become dazzling! It's quite in the grand
seventeenth-century style. Well, NOW she can receive."
The two old ladies had again sat down and with lowered tones began
talking about the marriage, which was causing astonishment to a good
many people. Estelle had just passed by them. She was in a pink silk
gown and was as pale, flat, silent and virginal as ever. She had
accepted Daguenet very quietly and now evinced neither joy nor sadness,
for she was still as cold and white as on those winter evenings when she
used to put logs on the fire. This whole fete given in her honor, these
lights and flowers and tunes, left her quite unmoved.
"An adventurer," Mme du Joncquoy was saying. "For my part, I've never
seen him."
"Take care, here he is," whispered Mme Chantereau.
Daguenet, who had caught sight of Mme Hugon and her sons, had eagerly
offered her his arm.
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