Labordette showed her two designs for the footboard, one of
which reproduced the pattern on the sides, while the other, a subject by
itself, represented Night wrapped in her veil and discovered by a faun
in all her splendid nudity. He added that if she chose this last subject
the goldsmiths intended making Night in her own likeness. This idea, the
taste of which was rather risky, made her grow white with pleasure,
and she pictured herself as a silver statuette, symbolic of the warm,
voluptuous delights of darkness.
"Of course you will only sit for the head and shoulders," said
Labordette.
She looked quietly at him.
"Why? The moment a work of art's in question I don't mind the sculptor
that takes my likeness a blooming bit!"
Of course it must be understood that she was choosing the subject. But
at this he interposed.
"Wait a moment; it's six thousand francs extra."
"It's all the same to me, by Jove!" she cried, bursting into a laugh.
"Hasn't my little rough got the rhino?"
Nowadays among her intimates she always spoke thus of Count Muffat, and
the gentlemen had ceased to inquire after him otherwise.
"Did you see your little rough last night?" they used to say.
"Dear me, I expected to find the little rough here!"
It was a simple familiarity enough, which, nevertheless, she did not as
yet venture on in his presence.
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