Mme Hugon, though
weary and absent-minded, had caught some phrases of the conversation,
and she now intervened and summed up in her tolerant way by remarking to
the Marquis de Chouard, who just then bowed to her:
"These ladies are too severe. Existence is so bitter for every one of
us! Ought we not to forgive others much, my friend, if we wish to merit
forgiveness ourselves?"
For some seconds the marquis appeared embarrassed, for he was afraid
of allusions. But the good lady wore so sad a smile that he recovered
almost at once and remarked:
"No, there is no forgiveness for certain faults. It is by reason of
this kind of accommodating spirit that a society sinks into the abyss of
ruin."
The ball had grown still more animated. A fresh quadrille was imparting
a slight swaying motion to the drawing-room floor, as though the old
dwelling had been shaken by the impulse of the dance. Now and again amid
the wan confusion of heads a woman's face with shining eyes and parted
lips stood sharply out as it was whirled away by the dance, the light
of the lusters gleaming on the white skin. Mme du Joncquoy declared that
the present proceedings were senseless. It was madness to crowd five
hundred people into a room which would scarcely contain two hundred.
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