"What are they like?"
"The one sets up for being blasé—-he is never either hungry, thirsty, or sleepy; he does not care for anything; everything bores him. And it is not true, you know! he never misses a dance, and his sister says that he gets up in the night to eat on the sly. Then, too, he writes ridiculous poetry, paints pictures as absurd as his poetry, and goes in for music—such music!"
"And the daughter?"
"She is as masculine as her brother is effeminate; she goes shooting and hunting, and her dream is to go in for deer-stalking, and to marry an officer."
"She is probably thinking of Hubert?"
"What Hubert?"
"Young Bernès!"
"Ah! But I don't fancy so! At all events, he is not thinking about her—"
"Because he is too much taken up with you, like all the others; is not that so?"
"Not at all!"