"Then why did you come here?" asked the girl, for a moment grave.
"To be near you."
And she broke into a laugh, shaking her head.
"I saw you in the crowd at the Fête Napoleon—I heard your voice. There is no one in the world like you. I fell in love, Mademoiselle."
Still she laughed, as if I were telling her an amusing story.
"And it is useless," I pursued, somewhat bitterly, perhaps. "I am too old?"
There was a little mirror on the mantelpiece. She ran and fetched it and held it in front of my face.
"Look," she cried merrily. "Yes, hundreds of years!"
With a laugh and flying skirts she ran from the room.