The édéquadrille came to an end, and I left my place, thinking that I would return for a moment to the other ball, to make sure that Balloquet would not come in search of me, and to see what he was doing as Monsieur Bocal's guest. From the glimpse I had caught of that other function, I fancied that there were likely to be some amusing sights there, and that love was probably treated there in another fashion than in the salons at the front of the house.
At Mademoiselle Bocal's wedding feast, punch, mulled wine, and _bischoff_ were circulating all the time, and the ladies partook of that species of refreshment as often as the men. From this fact it will be understood that at the Bocal ball there was an enthusiasm which threatened to develop into wild revelry. Most of the ladies were as red as poppies; some of them laughed incessantly; others, who were presumably very sentimental in their cups, rolled their eyes in a languishing way that drove you back to your entrenchments; others, whom the punch made melancholy, heaved prodigious sighs and were damp about the eyes.
As for the men, they were almost all loquacious and noisy, and I believe that I might safely say, tipsy.
When I entered the ballroom the second time, I looked about for Balloquet. I discovered him sitting beside a brunette with a headdress of roses, whose cheeks were of a brilliancy and lustre that dimmed the hue of the flowers. Their conversation was so animated that the young doctor in embryo--for to that class Balloquet belonged--did not notice me, although I had planted myself directly in front of him.
"Monsieur Balloquet," said I, "I would be glad to say a word to you, if possible."
"It isn't possible at this moment. I am engaged. I am explaining to mademoiselle the proper method of applying leeches."
And Balloquet gave me a meaning glance. I understood that his interview had reached an interesting point, and I was about to walk away, when I felt a hand on my arm. It was the little marionette named Ravinet, who was trying to make fast to me, and shouting--for everybody in the room shouted instead of speaking:
"Ah! you're one of the landlord's guests; I recognize you. You're the man who polks so well! It's very polite of you to come back to us. You'll polk again, won't you? If you want to please Aunt Chalumeau, you'll invite her; poor, dear woman, she's never polked in her life, and she's dying to. Her hair dresser told her she had the right make-up."