"With pleasure. I know all your uncle's guests. You know the poetry of my nature. I make no boast; nature's gifts are various, but as a poet nothing interests me more than the study of human feeling and aspiration. You have applied to the right quarter for information with regard to the character and circumstances of all these people."
"I am sure of it. I have always admired your obliging amiability no less than your profound study of character."
"You do me honour. I am obliging by nature, but I make no boast of it. Question me; I am quite at your service."
"To put you instantly to the test, tell me who is the charming girl dressed simply but elegantly in white, there, on the divan to my left, with brown hair and the wreath of snow-drops; the beautiful creature who evidently cares not one whit for all that the fellow with the black beard, leaning over her, is pouring so eagerly into her ear."
The Assessor listened with a smile to this enthusiastic description. "Evidently hit, my dear Count," he said.
"Not at all; but the melancholy on that charming face interests me excessively."
"Poor Frau von Sorr! She may well be melancholy."
"Frau? Impossible! You do not know whom I mean."
"Ah! yes I do. No one could fail to know from your description, and it is not to be wondered at that you take Frau von Sorr for a young girl: it is the same with every one who first sees her. She is just twenty-two and looks much younger."
"And the man talking to her is, I suppose, her husband."