'Yes，madame，in just a moment.'
'By the by，'Prudence said to me，'you haven't seen round the apartment.Come，I'll show you.'
As you know，the drawing-room was a marvel.
Marguerite came with us for a few steps，then she called Gaston and went with him into the dining-room to see if supper was ready.
'Hullo！'cried Prudence loudly，looking at the contents of a shelf from which she picked up a Dresden figurine，'I didn't know you had this little chap！'
'Which one？'
'The shepherd boy holding a cage with a bird in it.'
'You can have it if you like it.'
'Oh！but I couldn't deprive you of him.'
'I wanted to give it to my maid，I think it's hideous.But since you like it，take it.'
Prudence saw only the gift and not the manner in which it was given.She put her shepherd boy to one side，and led me into the dressing-room where she showed me two miniatures which made a pair and said：
'That's Count de G who was madly in love with Marguerite.He's the one who made her name.Do you know him？'
'No.And who's this？'I asked，pointing to the other miniature.
'That's the young Vicomte de L.He had to go away.'
'Why？'
'Because he was just about ruined.Now there was somebody who really loved Marguerite！'
'And I imagine she loved him very much？'
'She's such a funny girl，you never know where you are with her.The evening of the day he went away，she went to the theatre as usual，and yet she had cried when he said goodbye.'
Just then Nanine appeared，and announced that supper was served.
When we went into the dining-room，Marguerite was leaning against one wall and Gaston，who was holding both her hands，was whispering to her.
'You're mad，'Marguerite was saying to him，'you know perfectly well that I don't want anything to do with you.You can't wait two years after getting to know a woman like me before asking to be her lover.Women like me give ourselves at once or never.Come，gentlemen，let's eat！'
And，slipping out of Gaston's grasp，Marguerite sat him on her right，me on her left，and then said to Nanine：
'Before you sit down，go to the kitchen and tell them they're not to answer the door if anyone rings.'
This order was given at one in the morning.
We laughed，we drank，we ate a great deal at that supperparty.Within minutes，the merriment had sunk to the lowest level，and witticisms of the kind which certain smart circles find so amusing and never fail to defile the lips of those who utter them，erupted periodically to be greeted with loud acclamations by Nanine，Prudence and Marguerite.Gaston was enjoying himself unreservedly：he was a young man whose heart was in the right place，but his mind had been a little warped by the kind of people he had mixed with in his early days.At one point，I had opted to steel myself，to make my heart and my thoughts immune to the spectacle before my eyes，and to contribute my share to the jollity which seemed to be a dish on the menu.But，little by little，I cut myself off from the uproar，my glass had stayed full and I had grown almost sad as I watched this beautiful creature of twenty drink，talk like a stevedore，and laugh all the louder as what was said became more shocking.
But the merriment，this way of talking and drinking which seemed to me to be in the other guests the effects of dissoluteness，habit and duress，appeared with Marguerite to be a need to forget，a restlessness，a nervous reaction.With each glass of champagne，her cheeks took on a feverish flush，and a cough，which had been nothing at the start of supper，eventually became sufficiently troublesome to force her head against the back of her chair and make her hold her chest with both hands each time the coughing seized her.
I felt the pain which these daily excesses must have inflicted upon so frail a constitution.
At length happened a thing which I had foreseen and dreaded.Towards the end of supper，Marguerite was taken with a fit of coughing much stronger than any she had had while I had been there.It was as though her chest was being torn to pieces from the inside.The poor girl turned purple，closed her eyes with the pain，and put her lips to a serviette which turned red with a splash of blood.Then she got up and ran into her dressing-room.
'What's up with Marguerite？'asked Gaston.
'What's up with her is that she's been laughing too much and is spitting blood，'said Prudence.'Oh，it won't be anything，it happens every day.She'll come back.Let's just leave her alone.She prefers it that way.'
For my part，I could bear it no longer and，to the great astonishment of Prudence and Nanine who called me back，I went in to join Marguerite.
