Free Powder and Patch by Georgette Heyer Page B

out the parchment. “I insist that you shall listen to this product of my brain!” He mounted a chair amid derisive cheers, and bowed right and left in mock solemnity. “To the Pearl that Trembles in her Ear.” Cette petite perle qui tremblotte
    Au bout ton oreille, et qui chuchotte
    Je ne sais quoi de tendre et de malin, A l’air à la fois modeste et coquin, Si goguenarde est elle et si dévote.
    regarder c’est toute une gavotte Où 1’on s’avance, se penche, et pivote,
                Lors que tu branles d’un mouvement fin Cette petite perle.
    ’est une étoile dans le ciel qui flotte— Un vif éclair qui luit dans une grotte—
                Un feu follet qui hors de mon chemin M’attire, m’éblouit, m’égare—”
    Philip paused for his final effect. Arose Saint-Dantin, and like a flash interjected:
                “Enfin,
    Elle m’embête—saperlipopOtte!—
    Cette petite perle
    Outraged, Philip threw the parchment at his head.
     
    Chapter IX. Mr Bancroft is Enraged
     
    “Philippe, do you go to De Farraud’s tonight?” asked De Bergeret suddenly. He was lounging on the couch in Philip’s room, watching Philip adjust his patches. “De Farraud’s? I’d not thought of it. Whom shall I meet there?” “Your very obedient,” said De Bergeret, flourishing his hat.
    “The prospect does not entice me,” answered Philip. “No, don’t retort! Don’t speak. Don’t move!” He leaned forward, shifting a candle to throw its light on his face, and frowned at his reflection. The white hand that held the haresfoot wavered an instant, and then alighted at the corner of his mouth. Philip sat back, studying the effect.
    “Whom else shall I meet, Jules?”
    “The usual people, I fancy. And some others, no doubt.”
    “De Farraud’s friends are so very mixed,” deplored Philip. “Do you suppose that De Chambert will be present?”
    “Nothing is more certain,” yawned De Bergeret. “But it will be amusing, and the play will be high, which is all that matters.”
    “But De Chambert wears puce small-clothes,” objected Philip.
    “Does he? Mordieu, I’d like to see that! Puce smallclothes, forsooth! And what docs our Philippe wear?”
    Philip glanced lovingly down at his pearl-grey breeches.
    “Grey, and palest pink, with lacings of silver.” He slipped out of his gaily-hued robe, and stood up. De Bergeret levelled his eyeglass at him.
    “Parbleu, Philippe! Grey lace!” Philip shook out his ruffles. “A sweet conceit, hein? But wait! François, my vest!”
    His valet brought it, and helped Philip to put it on. It was a very exquisite confection of pink and silver brocade.
    De Bergeret was interested.
    “I’ll swear you designed that, Philippe! Now for the coat!”
    When Philip had at last succeeded in entering into the coat it was some ten minutes later. François stepped back, panting; Philip arranged his sword to his satisfaction. “A careless sprinkling of rubies, hein! One in the cravat, one here, another in my wig. And on my fingers, so ...!”
    “Perfect!” applauded De Bergeret. “Tonnerre de Dieu, pink humming-birds on your stockings!”
    François beamed and clasped his hands, gazing in rapt admiration at Philip’s startlingly clocked legs.
    Philip laughed.
    “Do they please your artistic soul, Jules? And are they to be wasted on De Farraud? I had intended to go to the Saint-Clammond rout, where I know I shall meet Clothilde. Come with me!”
    De Bergeret shook his head.
    “I promised De Vangrisse I’d be at De Farraud’s some time tonight. Forget the lovely Clothilde, Philippe. Bethink you, your so dear friend Bancroft will come to Farraud’s in De Chambert’s train!”
    Philip was fixing a long ruby earring in his right ear, but he stopped suddenly, and looked over his shoulder at De Bergeret.
    “Comment?”
    “Why, you leap to my bait!” said De Bergeret, amused. “I thought you could not resist so great an attraction!”
    Philip