"
The marquise looked at the young man with an air of some surprise, but
she answered with dignity:--
"Monsieur, silence on your part will be the best excuse. As for me, I
promise you entire forgetfulness, and the pardon which you scarcely
deserve."
"Madame," said Rastignac, hastily, "pardon is not needed where there
was no offence. The letter," he added, in a low voice, "which you
received, and which you must have thought extremely unbecoming, was
not intended for you."
The marquise could not help smiling, though she wished to seem
offended.
"Why deceive?" she said, with a disdainful air, although the tones of
her voice were gentle. "Now that I have duly scolded you, I am willing
to laugh at a subterfuge which is not without cleverness. I know many
women who would be taken in by it: 'Heavens! how he loves me!' they
would say."
Here the marquise gave a forced laugh, and then added, in a tone of
indulgence:--
"If we desire to continue friends let there be no more _mistakes_, of
which it is impossible that I should be the dupe."
"Upon my honor, madame, you are so--far more than you think," replied
Eugene.
"What are you talking about?" asked Monsieur de Listomere, who, for
the last minute, had been listening to the conversation, the meaning
of which he could not penetrate.
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