Moths by Ouida — page 182: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

378 _ MOTHS. its changes, he should remember one summer morning by the sea with a child. That night she went to the splendor of Prince Orloff’s fete; she did not rouge, but’ Paris found her lovelier than she had ever been; beneath the diamonds on her breast she had put a little bit of sweet-brier that no one saw. Itseemed to her like alittle tal- isman come out to her from her old, lost life, when she and the world had been strangers. ‘ It wasa great party in the Ruede Grenelle. Correze was there as a guest; he did not approach her. The next night she was in her boxin theopera-house. Correze- sang in the Prophete. She met the gaze of his eyes across the house, and something in their regard throbbed through her with a thrill like pain, and haunted her. He had never been in grand- er force or more wondrous melody than he was that night. -The Duchesse de Sonnaz, who accompanied Vere, broke her fan in the vehemence and enthusiasm of her applause. ‘They say that there are two tenor voices, la voix de clairon et la voix de clarinette,” she said. ‘‘ The voice of Correze is the voix de clairon of an archangel.” Vere sighed, quickly and wearily. Jeanne de Sonnaz looked at her with a sudden and close scrutiny. ‘*'Was there not some story of her and Correze?” she thought. The next evening Correze was free. He dined at Bignon’s with some friends before going to the re- ception-fete of the great world. As they left the cafe about ten o'clock they saw Prince Zouroff enter with a companion and pass on to one of the private rooms: he was laughing loudly. ‘*Whois with him to-night?” said one of the men who had dined with Correze. Another of them answered: ‘‘ Did you not see her black eyes and her mouth like a poppy? It is Casse-une-Croute.” Correze said nothing; he bade his friends good-night and walked down the Avenue de l’Opera by himself, though rain was falling and strong winds blew. If he had followed hisimpulse he would have gone back into _ Bignon’s, forced open the door of the cabinet particulier, and struck Sergius Zouroff. But he had noright! He returned to his own rooms, dressed, and went to two or three great parties. The last house he went to was the hotel in the Faubourg St. Germain of the Duc and Duchesse de Sonnaz. It was a great sovree for foreign royalties; Vere was present; the last injunction of her husband had been, as she had risen from the table, ‘‘Go to Jeanne’s by one o’clock to-night, or she will be annoyed; you will say I am engaged: there is a club- meeting at the Ganaches.” Vere never disobeyed his commands. ‘*T cannot love or honor you,” she had said to him once, ‘‘ but I can obey you;” and she did so at all times. The night was brilliant. It recalled the best days of the perished empire. The Princess Zouroff came late; Correze saw her arrive, and 1 €omicbooks.co