The count consoled him, without asking for explanations;
and Raoul would certainly have long hesitated before telling him
the story of the Angel of Music. His brother suggested taking him
out to dinner. Overcome as he was with despair, Raoul would probably
have refused any invitation that evening, if the count had not,
as an inducement, told him that the lady of his thoughts had been seen,
the night before, in company of the other sex in the Bois.
At first, the viscount refused to believe; but he received such exact
details that he ceased protesting. She had been seen, it appeared,
driving in a brougham, with the window down. She seemed to be slowly
taking in the icy night air. There was a glorious moon shining.
She was recognized beyond a doubt. As for her companion, only his
shadowy outline was distinguished leaning back in the dark.
The carriage was going at a walking pace in a lonely drive behind
the grand stand at Longchamp.
Raoul dressed in frantic haste, prepared to forget his distress
by flinging himself, as people say, into "the vortex of pleasure."
Alas, he was a very sorry guest and, leaving his brother early,
found himself, by ten o'clock in the evening, in a cab,
behind the Longchamp race-course.
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