Whenever I had attempted to indulge in conversation which was a little free, I had found them deaf and dumb.
Although Emilie was a handsome girl in spite of her pallor, I did not take sufficient interest in her to try to dissipate her melancholy; but loving Armelline to desperation I was cut to the quick to see her look grave when I asked her if she had any idea of the difference between the physical conformation of men and women.
As we were leaving Armelline said she was hungry, as she had scarcely eaten anything for the last week on account of the grief I had given her.
“If I had foreseen that,” I answered, “I would have ordered a good supper, whereas I have now only potluck to offer you.”
“Never mind. How many shall we be?”
“We three.”
“So much the better; we shall be more at liberty.”
“Then you don’t like the princess?”
“I beg your pardon, but she wants me to kiss her in a way I don’t like.”
“Nevertheless, you kissed her ardently enough.”