The delicate pink in her cheeks might have been laid on with
a brush. She was called Cydalise, and, as will be seen, she was an
important pawn in the game played by Ma'ame Nourrisson to defeat
Madame Marneffe.
"Your arm is not a match for your name, my child," said Jenny Cadine,
to whom Carabine had introduced this masterpiece of sixteen, having
brought her with her.
And, in fact, Cydalise displayed to public admiration a fine pair of
arms, smooth and satiny, but red with healthy young blood.
"What do you want for her?" said Jenny Cadine, in an undertone to
Carabine.
"A fortune."
"What are you going to do with her?"
"Well--Madame Combabus!"
"And what are you to get for such a job?"
"Guess."
"A service of plate?"
"I have three."
"Diamonds?"
"I am selling them."
"A green monkey?"
"No. A picture by Raphael."
"What maggot is that in your brain?"
"Josepha makes me sick with her pictures," said Carabine. "I want some
better than hers."
Du Tillet came with the Brazilian, the hero of the feast; the Duc
d'Herouville followed with Josepha. The singer wore a plain velvet
gown, but she had on a necklace worth a hundred and twenty thousand
francs, pearls hardly distinguishable from her skin like white
camellia petals.
Pages:
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604