My spirits continued high. I sprang alertly to meet wit and gossip,
my mind ran nimbly here and there, I filled the role of honoured
guest. But when came the table and wine, a change befell me. From
the first drop I drank, my spirits suffered a decline. On one side
the Intendant rallied me, on the other Doltaire. I ate on, drank
on; but while smiling by the force of will, I grew graver little by
little. Yet it was a gravity which had no apparent motive, for I
was not thinking of my troubles, not even of the night's stake and
the possible end of it all; simply a sort of gray colour of the mind,
a stillness in the nerves, a general seriousness of the senses.
I drank, and the wine did not affect me, as voices got loud and
louder, and glasses rang, and spurs rattled on shuffling heels, and
a scabbard clanged on a chair. I seemed to feel and know it all in
some far-off way, but I was not touched by the spirit of it, was
not a part of it. I watched the reddened cheeks and loose scorching
mouths around me with a sort of distant curiosity, and the ribald
jests flung right and left struck me not at all acutely.
Pages:
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70