Loiseau summed up the situation:

--"What a pity that there is no piano! We might have danced a
quadrille!"--

Cornudet had not said a single word, nor made a single gesture; he
even seemed to be plunged in very serious thoughts, and from time
to time tugged furiously at his long beard as if he wanted to
make it longer. Finally, toward midnight, as they were going to
separate, Loiseau, who was unsteady on his feet slapped him suddenly
on the stomach and spluttered:--"You are not in a gay mood to-night,
you don't talk much, citoyen?"--But Cornudet raised briskly his
head and casting a swift and terrible look at the company, fairly
shouted:--"I tell you all, that you have behaved infamously!"--He
got up, walked to the door and repeated once more: "Infamous!"
and he disappeared.

This threw a chill at first. Loiseau nonplused, stood looking
foolish; but he recovered his countenance and then suddenly began
to laugh and repeat:--"Sour grapes! my dear Sir, sour grapes!"--The
company did not understand what he meant; he explained the "mysteries
of the hall"--Then there was a resumption of formidable gayety.
The ladies were immensely amused. The Count and Mr. Carre-Lamadon
laughed to tears. They could hardly believe their ears.

--"Why! are you sure? He wanted"--"I tell you that I saw it with
my own eyes."

--"And she refused?"