"And he never sits in your room? No one in my garden will ever see a man at your windows?"
"It never has happened and never will happen. I will answer for it."
"Nor will he ever come to the garden door, even for an instant? You will warn him."
"Be perfectly at ease in that respect. My son is a man of honor."
"I do not doubt it. Commend my honor to him, and let us say no more about him; that is to say let us say no more about me, for to forbid you to speak of him would be very cruel. I know that he is your pride and your joy, and I congratulate you."
Madame Thierry had made up her mind not to say another word about Julien, but it was impossible for her to keep to her determination. Step by step she finally reached the point where she gave full expression to her idolatry of that adored son, who well deserved to be adored. The countess listened without any uncalled-for scruples to her enumeration of the young artist's talents and virtues. But she became a little melancholy at the thought that she should probably never have children to afford occupation for her youth and console her old age. Madame Thierry divined her secret thought and changed the subject.
JULIEN'S RUSE
He went to the window, the lower sash of which was really nailed in its place and covered with a green cloth; but there was an imperceptible slit in that cloth, there was a scratch on the ground glass, and through that treacherous crevice, cunningly made and cunningly concealed, he saw Madame d'Estrelle every day.