There are truly moments in life when the heart of man seems too small to contain the joy or grief concentrated there.
"Oh, what a lovely day!" exclaimed Morand.
Maurice turned round in surprise. This was the first burst of feeling he had ever heard issue from the lips of this singularly reserved and absent man.
"Oh, yes; it is indeed lovely," said Geneviève, pressing closer the arm of Maurice; "would that it may continue till evening pure and cloudless as it is now!"
Maurice applied these words to himself, and his happiness redoubled each moment.
Morand at the same time regarded Geneviève through his green spectacles with a peculiar, grateful expression. Perhaps he also applied her wish to himself.
They thus crossed the Petit Pont, the Rue de la Juiverie, and the Bridge Notre Dame; they then proceeded to the Place de l'Hôtel de Ville, the Rue Barre-du-Bec, and the Rue Sainte Avoie. As they progressed, Maurice's step became more and more elastic, while on the contrary those of his male and female companions waxed slower and slower.
They had reached the corner of the Rue des Vieilles-Audriettes, when all at once a flower-girl impeded their passage, by offering them her basket filled with flowers.
"Oh, what magnificent carnations!" cried Maurice.
"Oh, yes, very beautiful!" said Geneviève; "it seems the cultivator of these had no preoccupation to distress him, for they are not withered and dead."