Page:The Story of Manon Lescaut and of the Chevalier des Grieux.pdf/183

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THE STORY OF MANON LESCAUT.
187

But, quickly recovering his self-possession, he banished any such inclination from my mind by the coarseness of his retort.

"Yes, mademoiselle," he said to Manon, with a forced smile; "my eyes have indeed been opened, and I find that you are much less of a novice than I had supposed."

Then, without favoring her with so much as a glance, he turned and left the room, adding in an undertone as he went out, that French women were no better than Italian. Under the circumstances I was not at all anxious to convert him to a higher opinion of the fair sex.

Releasing my hair from her grasp, Manon threw herself into an arm-chair, and made the room re-echo with peal after peal of laughter. I did not attempt to conceal how deeply I was touched by a sacrifice which I could ascribe only to the promptings of her affection for me. Yet I felt that the jest had been carried too far, and expressed my disapproval of it. She then told me the whole tale, how my rival had laid siege to her for several days in the Bois de Boulogne, ogling and simpering at her until it was impossible for her to mistake the nature of his sentiments; how, at last, he had gone so far as to send her an open declaration of his passion, with his name and all his titles duly set forth, in a letter, the delivery of which he had entrusted to the coachman who drove her and her companions on their daily outings. In this epistle