The Intendant gazed with rapture on his beautiful partner, as she
leaned upon his arm in the pauses of the dance, and thought more
than once that the world would be well lost for sake of such a
woman. It was but a passing fancy, however; the serious mood passed
away, and he was weary, long before Angelique, of the excitement and
breathless heat of a wild Polish dance, recently first heard of in
French society. He led her to a seat, and left her in the centre of
a swarm of admirers, and passed into an alcove to cool and rest
himself.
CHAPTER XXXII.
"ON WITH THE DANCE."
Bigot, a voluptuary in every sense, craved a change of pleasure. He
was never satisfied long with one, however pungent. He felt it as a
relief when Angelique went off like a laughing sprite upon the arm
of De Pean. "I am glad to get rid of the women sometimes, and feel
like a man," he said to Cadet, who sat drinking and telling stories
with hilarious laughter to two or three boon companions, and
indulging in the coarsest jests and broadest scandal about the
ladies at the ball, as they passed by the alcove where they were
seated.
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