"
I had another vicarious proposal. One night, dining with the
Bischoffheims, I was introduced for the first time to Baron
Hirsch, an Austrian who lived in Paris. He took me in to dinner
and a young man whom I had met out hunting sat on the other side
of me.
I was listening impressively to the latter, holding my champagne
in my hand, when the footman in serving one of the dishes bumped
my glass against my chest and all its contents went down the front
of my ball-dress. I felt iced to the bone; but, as I was thin, I
prayed profoundly that my pink bodice would escape being marked. I
continued in the same position, holding my empty glass in my hand
as if nothing had happened, hoping that no one had observed me and
trying to appear interested in the young man's description of the
awful dangers he had run when finding himself alone with hounds.
A few minutes later Baron Hirsch turned to me and said:
"Aren't you very cold?"
I said that I was, but that it did not matter; what I really
minded was spoiling my dress and, as I was not a kangaroo, I
feared the worst. After this we entered into conversation and he
told me among other things that, when he had been pilled for a
sporting club in Paris, he had revenged himself by buying the club
and the site upon which it was built, to which I observed:
"You must be very rich."
He asked me where I had lived and seemed surprised that I had
never heard of him.
The next time we met each other was in Paris.
Pages:
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143