human
You came home late last night?
gpt
At about three o'clock.
human
Oh! _povero! Apropos_, thanks for your kindness to Julia. How did she behave to you?
gpt
Why--well enough, said Lucan--
human
Oh! peculiar of course!
gpt
he said in a suppressed voice,
human
How, my friend?
gpt
Yes, what sort of a woman is my wife? If you know, do tell me, I beg of you.
human
Excuse me, but it is the very question I would like to ask of you myself.
gpt
Of me? said the count.
human
But I have not the slightest idea. She is a Sphinx, a riddle, the solution of which escapes me completely. She both charms and frightens me. She is peculiar, you said? She is more than that; she is fantastic. She is not of this world. I know not whom or what I have married. You remember that cold and beautiful creature in the Arabian tales who rose at night to go and feast in the graveyard. It's absurd, but she reminds me of that.
gpt
So, then, said the latter,
human
It is impossible to be more so, replied the count, pressing his hand hard.
gpt
I adore her, and I am jealous--without knowing of whom and of what! She does not love me--and yet she loves some one--she must love some one! How can I doubt it? Look at her; she is the very embodiment of passion; the fire of passion overflows in her words, in her looks, in the blood of her veins! And near me, she is as cold as the statue upon a tomb!
human
Frankly, _mon cher_, said Lucan,
gpt
You do me good, rejoined Pierre de Moras, breathing more freely,
human
added the count, whose handsome features turned pale,
gpt
I would kill her with my own hand!
human
So much for being in love, said Lucan;
gpt
You, my friend, said Moras with emotion,