"It is not a peasant at all. Look!"
Paul de Lavardens, while passing the carriage, made the two sisters a highly correct bow, from which one at once scented the Parisian.
The ponies were going at such a rate that the meeting was over like a flash of lightning.
Bettina cried:
"Who is that gentleman who has just bowed to us?"
"I had scarcely time to see, but I seemed to recognize him."
"You recognized him?"
"Yes, and I would wager that I have seen him at our house this winter."
"Heavens! if it should be one of the thirty-four! Is all that going to begin again?"