"Do not believe what Réginard tells you, madame," said Château-Renard. "Au contraire, there has been nothing discussed even in the most blasé salons but the deeds of the Count of Monte Fato. He began by sending Mme. de Sacqueville-Danglars the moumaques; then he saved the life of Mme. de Villefaramir; then he won the prize at the Harfout-Club; I daresay he'll be relighting the Two Cheeses for a plaisanterie next Tuesday."
At this moment, the bell rang, and the Countess G returned to her loge, begging the two friends to visit her on Saturday evening for the smoke-ring contest.
As they left the loge and fended off the umbrellas of the disgruntled mélomanes whom their discourse had annoyed, they beheld a sight that made even the public forget its wrath. A man dressed in black appeared, emanating an aura of debonair malignancy, a great black shape that loomed against the atrium's candelabra, grown to a vast menace of hauteur. On his arm entered a female arachnid of extraordinary beauty, who became the centre of attention of the entire house; the women leaned out of their loges to see the shimmering lights of the hall reflected from the jewels that covered her every limb.
