The countess would try to draw nearer to him without
apparently intending to join him; then, assuming a manner and an
expression in which servility and affection, submissiveness and
tyranny, were equally noticeable, she would say two or three words, to
which the old man almost always deferred; and he would disappear, led,
or I might better say carried away, by her. If Madame de Lanty were
not present, the Count would employ a thousand ruses to reach his
side; but it always seemed as if he found difficulty in inducing him
to listen, and he treated him like a spoiled child, whose mother
gratifies his whims and at the same time suspects mutiny. Some prying
persons having ventured to question the Comte de Lanty indiscreetly,
that cold and reserved individual seemed not to understand their
questions. And so, after many attempts, which the circumspection of
all the members of the family rendered fruitless, no one sought to
discover a secret so well guarded. Society spies, triflers, and
politicians, weary of the strife, ended by ceasing to concern
themselves about the mystery.
But at that moment, it may be, there were in those gorgeous salons
philosophers who said to themselves, as they discussed an ice or a
sherbet, or placed their empty punch glasses on a tray:
"I should not be surprised to learn that these people are knaves.
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