THE BISHOP BREAKFASTS AND THE DEAN DIES.
"One that would well grace any man's house."
"And you really have the effrontery to tell me this," said she; "to tell me, who, as you very well know, set up to be a beauty myself, and who am at this very moment taking such an interest in your affairs, you really have the effrontery to tell me that Mrs. Bold is the most beautiful woman you know."
"I did not say so," said Mr. Arabin; "you are more beautiful"
"Ah, come now, that is something like. I thought you could not be so unfeeling."
"You are more beautiful, perhaps more clever."
"Thank you, thank you, Mr. Arabin. I knew that you and I should be friends."
"But"
"Not a word further. I will not hear a word further. If you talk till midnight, you cannot improve what you have said."
"But, Madame Neroni, Mrs. Bold"
"I will not hear a word about Mrs. Bold. Dread thoughts of strychnine did pass across my brain, but she is welcome to the second place."
"Her place"
"I won't hear anything about her or her place. I am satisfied, and that is enough. But, Mr. Arabin, I am dying with hunger; beautiful and clever as I am, you know I cannot go to my food, and yet you do not bring it to me."
This at any rate was so true as to make it necessary that Mr. Arabin should act upon it, and he accordingly went into the dining-room and supplied the signora's wants.
"And yourself?" said she.
"Oh," said he, "I am not hungry; I never eat at this hour."
"Come, come, Mr. Arabin, don't let love interfere with your appetite. It never does with mine. Give me half a glass more champagne, and then go to the table. Mrs. Bold will do me an injury if you stay talking to me any longer."
Mr. Arabin did as he was bid. He took her plate and glass from her, and going into the dining-room, helped himself to a sandwich from the crowded table and began munching it in a corner.
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