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symbol. How many enjoyments in a toilet arranged to please HIM, to do

HIM honor! She gave herself up ingenuously to all those gracefully



charming things in which so many Parisian women spend their lives, and

which give such significance to all that we see about them, and in



them, and on them. Few women go to milliners and dressmakers for their

own pleasure and interest. When old they never think of adornment. The



next time you meet in the street a young woman stopping for a moment

to look into a shop-window, examine her face carefully. "Will he think



I look better in that?" are the words written on that fair brow, in

the eyes sparkling with hope, in the smile that flickers on the lips.



Lady Dudley's ball took place on a Saturday night. On the following

Monday the countess went to the Opera, feeling certain of seeing



Raoul, who was, in fact, watching for her on one of the stairways

leading down to the stalls. With what delight did she observe the



unwonted care he had bestowed upon his clothes. This despiser of the

laws of elegance had brushed and perfumed his hair; his waistcoat



followed the fashion, his cravat was well tied, the bosom of his shirt

was irreproachably smooth. Raoul was standing with his arms crossed as



if posed for his portrait, magnificently indifferent to the rest of

the audience and full of repressed impatience. Though lowered, his



eyes were turned to the red velvetcushion on which lay Marie's arm.

Felix, seated in the opposite corner of the box, had his back to



Nathan.

So, in a moment, as it were, Marie had compelled this remarkable man



to abjure his cynicism in the line of clothes. All women, high or low,

are filled with delight on seeing a first proof of their power in one



of these sudden metamorphoses. Such changes are an admission of

serfdom.



"Those women were right; there is a great pleasure in being

understood," she said to herself, thinking of her treacherous friends.



When the two lovers had gazed around the theatre with that glance that

takes in everything, they exchanged a look of intelligence. It was for



each as if some celestial dew had refreshed their hearts, burned-up

with expectation.



"I have been here for an hour in purgatory, but now the heavens are

opening," said Raoul's eyes.



"I knew you were waiting, but how could I help it?" replied those of

the countess.



Thieves, spies, lovers, diplomats, and slaves of any kind alone know

the resources and comforts of a glance. They alone know what it



contains of meaning, sweetness, thought, anger, villainy, displayed by

the modification of that ray of light which conveys the soul. Between



the box of the Comtesse Felix de Vandenesse and the step on which

Raoul had perched there were barely thirty feet; and yet it was



impossible to wipe out that distance. To a fiery being, who had

hitherto known no space between his wishes and their gratification,



this imaginary but insuperable gulf inspired a mad desire to spring to

the countess with the bound of a tiger. In a species of rage he



determined to try the ground and bow openly to the countess. She

returned the bow with one of those slight inclinations of the head



with which women take from their adorers all desire to continue their

attempt. Comte Felix turned round to see who had bowed to his wife; he



saw Nathan, but did not bow, and seemed to inquire the meaning of such

audacity; then he turned back slowly and said a few words to his wife.



Evidently the door of that box was closed to Nathan, who cast a

terrible look of hatred upon Felix.



Madame d'Espard had seen the whole thing from her box, which was just

above where Raoul was standing. She raised her voice in crying bravo



to some singer, which caused Nathan to look up to her; he bowed and

received in return a gracious smile which seemed to say:--



"If they won't admit you there come here to me."

Raoul obeyed the silent summons and went to her box. He felt the need



of showing himself in a place which might teach that little Vandenesse

that fame was every whit as good as nobility, and that all doors



turned on their hinges to admit him. The marquise made him sit in

front of her. She wanted to question him.



"Madame Felix de Vandenesse is fascinating in that gown," she said,




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