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the nabob-第21章

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after having wandered through the doctor's library; the conservatory; the billiard…room; where men were smoking; weary of serious and dry conversation which seemed to him out of place amid surroundings so decorated and in the brief hour of pleasuresome one had asked him carelessly; without looking at him; what the Bourse was doing that daymade his way again towards the door of the large drawing…room; which was barricaded by a wedged crowd of dress…coats; a sea of heads bent sideways and peering past each other; watching。

This salon was a spacious apartment richly furnished with the artistic taste which distinguished the host and hostess。 There were a few old pictures on the light background of the hangings。 A monumental chimneypiece; adorned by a handsome group in marble〃The Seasons;〃 by Sebastien Ruysaround which long green stems cut in lacework or of a goffered bronze…like rigidity curved back towards the mirror as towards the limpidity of a clear lake。 On the low seats; women in close groups; so close as almost to blend the delicate colours of their toilettes; forming an immense basket of living flowers; above which there floated the gleam of bare shoulders; of hair sown with diamonds that looked like drops of water on the dark women; glittering reflections on the fair; and the same heady perfume; the same confused and gentle hum; compact of vibrant warmth and intangible wings; which; in summer; caresses a garden…bed through all its flowering time。 Now and then a little laugh; rising into this luminous atmosphere; a quicker inspiration in the air; which would cause aigrettes and curls to tremble; a handsome profile to stand out suddenly。 Such was the aspect of the drawing…room。

A few men were present; a very small number; however; and all of them personages of note; laden with years and decorations。 They were standing about near couches; leaning over the backs of chairs; with that air of condescension which men assume when speaking to children。 But in the peaceful buzz of these conversations; one voice rang out piercing and brazen; that of the Nabob; who was tranquilly performing his evolutions across this social hothouse with the assurance bestowed upon him by his immense wealth; and a certain contempt for women which he had brought back from the East。

At that moment; comfortably installed on a settee; his big hands in yellow gloves crossed carelessly one over the other; he was talking with a very handsome woman; whose original physiognomymuch vitality coupled with severe featuresstood out pale among the pretty faces about her; just as her dress; all white; classic in its folds and following closely the lines of her supple figure; contrasted with toilettes that were richer; but among which none had that air of daring simplicity。 From his corner; de Gery admired the low and smooth forehead beneath its fringe of downward combed hair; the well…opened eyes; deep blue in colour; an abysmal blue; the mouth which ceased to smile only to relax its pure curve into an expression that was weary and drooping。 In sum; the rather haughty mien of an exceptional being。

Somebody near him mentioned her nameFelicia Ruys。 At once he understood the rare attraction of this young girl; the continuer of her father's genius; whose budding celebrity had penetrated even to the remote country district where he had lived; with the aureole of reputed beauty。 While he stood gazing at her; admiring her least gestures; a little perplexed by the enigma of her handsome countenance; he heard whispers behind him。

〃But see how pleasant she is with the Nabob! If the duke were to come in!〃

〃The Duc de Mora is coming?〃

〃Certainly。 It is for him that the party is given; to bring about a meeting between him and Jansoulet。〃

〃And you think that the duke and Mlle。 Ruys〃

〃Where have you come from? It is an intrigue known to all Paris。 The affair dates from the last exhibition; for which she did a bust of him。〃

〃And the duchess?〃

〃Bah! it is not her first experience of that sort。 Ah! there is Mme。 Jenkins going to sing。〃

There was a movement in the drawing…room; a more violent swaying of the crowd near the door; and conversation ceased for a moment。 Paul de Gery breathed。 What he had just heard had oppressed his heart。 He felt himself reached; soiled; by this mud flung in handfuls over the ideal which in his own mind he had formed of that splendid adolescence; matured by the sun of Art to so penetrating a charm。 He moved away a little; changed his place。 He feared to hear again some whispered infamy。 Mme。 Jenkins's voice did him good; a voice that was famous in the drawing…rooms of Paris and that in spite of all its magnificence had nothing theatrical about it; but seemed an emotional utterance vibrating over unstudied sonorities。 The singer; a woman of forty or forty…five; had splendid ash…blond hair; delicate; rather nerveless features; a striking expression of kindness。 Still good…looking; she was dressed in the costly taste of a woman who has not given up the thought of pleasing。 Indeed; she was far from having given it up。 Married a dozen years ago; for a second time; to the doctor; they seemed still to be at the first months of their dual happiness。 While she sang a popular Russian melody; savage and sweet like the smile of a Slav; Jenkins was ingenuously proud; without seeking to dissimulate the fact; his broad face all beaming; and she; each time that she bent her head as she regained her breath; glanced in his direction a timid; affectionate smile that flew to seek him over the unfolded music。 And then; when she had finished amid an admiring and delighted murmur; it was touching to notice how discreetly she gave her husband's hand a secret squeeze; as though to secure to themselves a corner of private bliss in the midst of her great triumph。 Young de Gery was feeling cheered by the spectacle of this happy couple; when quite close to him a voice murmuredit was not; however; the same voice that he had heard just before:

〃You know what they saythat the Jenkinses are not married。〃

〃How absurd!〃

〃I assure you。 It would seem that there is a veritable Mme。 Jenkins somewhere; but not the lady we know。 Besides; have you noticed〃

The dialogue continued in an undertone。 Mme。 Jenkins advanced; bowing; smiling; while the doctor; stopping a tray that was being borne round; brought her a glass of claret with the alacrity of a mother; an impresario; a lover。 Calumny; calumny; ineffaceable defilement! To the provincial young man; Jenkins's attentions now seemed exaggerated。 He fancied that there was something affected about them; something deliberate; and; too; in the words of thanks which she addressed in a low voice to her husband he thought he could detect a timidity; a submissiveness; not consonant with the dignity of the legitimate spouse; glad and proud in an assured happiness。 〃But Society is a hideous affair!〃 said de Gery to himself; dismayed and with cold hands。 The smiles around him had upon him the effect of hypocritical grimaces。 He felt shame and disgust。 Then suddenly revolting: 〃Come; it is not possible。〃 And; as though in reply to this exclamation; behind him the scandalous tongue resumed in an easy tone: 〃After all; 
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