continuing his more or less decorous reflexions; and Gilberte, although not always catching his exact meaning, felt so uncomfortable that she did not listen to young Lartiste at all and forgot to applaud at the striking passages, an omission that was put down to her bad taste.
"Mme. de la Vaudraye is furious," said Simare. "Her son's gone. And I expect she jolly well lectured him about making himself agreeable to you. By Jove, when you're a mother, you have to think of your son's future. But Guillaume making himself agreeable is a sight that was never yet seen! Besides, he looks down upon us too much to remain in the drawing-room. Just fancy, a writer like him! ... Oh, I say, madame, look at the eyes Beaufrelant's making at you! Beaufrelant is the Don Juan of Domfront. No one can resist him. They even say ... but I don't know if I ought. ... Pooh, you have a fan ... if you want to blush."
