He tried his best to solve the
problem of appearing at the same time most recherche but at ease,
excessively elegant and yet unostentatious; and he devoted himself
to the task so unreservedly that he lost all conception of the
flight of time: so that on seeing M. de Coralth enter his rooms,
he exclaimed in unfeigned astonishment: "You here already?"
It seemed to him that barely five minutes had elapsed since he
took his place before the looking-glass to study attitudes and
gestures, with a new and elegant mode of bowing and sitting down,
like an actor practising the effects which are to win him
applause.
"Why do you say 'already?'" replied the viscount. "I am a quarter
of an hour behind time. Are you not ready?"
"Yes, certainly."
"Let us start at once, then; my brougham is outside."
The drive was a silent one. M. Ferdinand de Coralth, whose smooth
white skin would ordinarily have excited the envy of a young girl,
did not look like himself. His face was swollen and covered with
blotches, and there were dark blue circles round his eyes. He
seemed, moreover, to be in a most savage humor. "He hasn't had
sleep enough," thought M. Wilkie, with his usual discernment; "he
hasn't a bronze constitution like myself."
M. Wilkie himself was insensible to fatigue, and although he had
not closed his eyes the previous night, he only felt that nervous
trepidation which invariably attacks debutants, and makes the
throat so marvellously dry.
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