A BAL MASQUÉ
by alexandre dumas
I SAID that I was in to no one; one of my friends forced admission.
My servant announced Mr. Anthony R———. Behind Joseph's livery I saw the corner of a black redingote[1]; it is probable that the wearer of the redingote, from his side, saw a flap of my dressing gown; impossible to conceal myself.
"Very well! Let him enter," I said out loud. "Let him go to the Devil," I said to myself.
While working it is only the woman you love who can disturb you with impunity, for she is always at bottom interested in what you are doing.
I went up to him, therefore, with the half-bored face of an author interrupted in one of those moments of sorest self-mistrust, while I found him so pale and haggard that the first words I addressed to him were these:
"What is the matter? What has happened to you?"
"Oh! Let me take breath," said he. "I'm going to tell you all about it, besides, it's a dream perhaps, or perhaps I am mad."
- ↑ Redingote is a French corruption of the English word "riding coat" and means generally a long, plain double-breasted street coat.
