Читать книгу Madeleine: One of Love's Jansenists онлайн

26 страница из 60

‘Yes, very frail but rarely in Paris nowadays. The last time I went to see her she said, smiling as is always her way, “I feel like a ghost in Paris these days, a ghost that died hundreds of years ago,” and I much apprehend that she will in sober earnest be a ghost before long,’ and Madame Pilou, who was deeply moved, blew her nose violently on a napkin.

‘She must be a lady of great and rare parts,’ said Madame Troqueville sympathetically. The remark about ‘feeling like a ghost’ had touched her imagination.

‘Yes, indeed. She is the only virtuous woman I have ever known who is a little ashamed of her virtue—and that is perfection. There is but little to choose between a prude and a whore, I think ... yes, I do, Robert Pilou. Ay! in good earnest, she is of a most absolute behaviour. The Marquis has no need to wear his hair long. You know when this fashion for men wearing love-locks came in, I said it was to hide the horns!’

‘Do the horns grow on one’s neck, then?’ Jacques asked innocently. Monsieur Troqueville was much tickled, and Madame Troqueville wondered wearily how many jokes she had heard in her life about ‘horns’ and ‘cuckolds.’