“Very good! I drink to your very good health,” and bowing to Leon de
Lora, he lifted his glass of port wine and drank it with much dignity.
“Are you then truly in love?” asked Malaga of her neighbor, thus
interpreting his toast.
The Brazilian refilled his glass, bowed to Carabine, and drank again.
“To the lady’s health then!” said the courtesan, in such a droll tone
that Lora, du Tillet, and Bixiou burst out laughing.
The Brazilian sat like a bronze statue. This impassibility provoked
Carabine. She knew perfectly well that Montes was devoted to Madame
Marneffe, but she had not expected this dogged fidelity, this
obstinate silence of conviction.