Nadège Lambert, spinster, tilted her chin. “Don’t be absurd,” she said shortly. “I agreed to marry you, not to ignore the existence of everyone else.” The man pulled his moustache. “I never see you, Nadège. You know I don’t expect you to give up your friends, but—well, we mightn’t be engaged, might we?” The girl shrugged her white shoulders. “I don’t know what you expect. I never pick up a paper without seeing some reference—usually nauseating—to our approaching union: I flaunt your quite excellent ring: you have t…
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