"He walked to the door of the salon, then retraced his steps and picked up his stick, which lay where I had thrown it. I stamped the floor angrily, and said:
"'What, monsieur! you have come back for that?'
"'Because I am used to having it in my hand, mademoiselle; it encourages me. When I haven't it, I don't know what to do with my hands.'
"'When a person's mind is occupied, monsieur, he is never embarrassed by his hands. But go, and hurry back!'
"When Gabriel had gone, I was anxious and impatient; I imagined that I loved that young man with a very profound love. In girls of that age, the slightest sentiment, the most trivial caprice, at once assumes the form of a passion. A pleasing illusion! which lasts too short a time, thanks to you, messieurs, who are so well skilled in opening our eyes to the melancholy reality!"
"My dear Frédérique, the illusions and disappointments are the same in both sexes! You are more affectionate, perhaps, but you are more easily fascinated, too. We change without reason, you change from pure coquetry. There is no more fidelity on one side than on the other."
"Do you think so? That may be true. Let me finish the story of my first love.
"Gabriel was not long away; in about ten minutes he returned; his face was flushed, his eyes gleamed—but not with joy. I must tell you that my father, an ex-naval officer, was not good-humored every day, that his language was often brusque, and that his manners corresponded with his language.
"'Well, monsieur,' I said, 'did you see my father?'
"'Yes, mademoiselle.'