"Monsieur de Ramière, if I am not mistaken," said a pretty woman to her neighbor.
"He is a comet who appears at irregular intervals," was the reply. "It is centuries since any one heard of the pretty fellow."
The lady who spoke thus was a middle-aged foreigner. Her companion blushed slightly.
"He's very good-looking, is he not, madame?" she said.
"Charming, on my word," replied the old Sicilian.
"You are talking about the hero of the eclectic salons, the dark-eyed Raymon, I'll be bound," said a dashing colonel of the guard.
"He has a fine head to study," rejoined the younger woman.
"And what pleases you even more, I dare say," said the colonel, "a wicked head."
The young woman was his wife.
"Why a wicked head?" queried the Sicilian.