“Come, cheer up,” said Jean, “and show me your hand.”
She held out her fine ungloved hand. He pretended to examine it carefully.
“I see that you will marry a man forty years of age, ugly, and a millionaire. But, after the marriage, he will show his real disposition, sordid avarice. One is always punished in the same way in which one has sinned.”
The grave sententious tone in which he uttered his nonsense amused the whole carriage.
When the conversation had again become general, Isabelle, restored once more to calm, murmured gaily to her vis-à-vis:
“So much the worse for the miser! I shall be untrue to him.”
“With me, do you mean?” asked Jean, smiling.
“Perhaps with you. Yes, certainly with you!”
And again bursting into laughter, she showed her white teeth, as sound as a puppy’s, while she stared boldly at the young man who appealed so much to her taste.
Alice, abashed by the boldness of the conversation, blushed for her companion. Then wrapping herself in her own thoughts, she fell half asleep and dreamed of the love-match which Isabelle despised, but in connection with which certain lately-seen features dimly presented themselves to her imagination.