"Yes, there are many of them there; but I say again, they can't hold a candle to Parisian women in general, and to you in particular."
"Oh! hush! Are you no longer in love with my sister?"
"Your sister? Faith! no; she refused my hand; I bear her no ill-will for it; for, frankly, I am very glad of it now."
"Why so, pray?"
"Oh! I can't tell you here."
"Very well! then you must come to see me, and tell me."
"Do you give me leave to come to pay my respects to you?"
"More than that, I count upon it."
It seemed to Gustave that Fanny's conversation with the count was unconscionably long. He could not see all the coquettish little grimaces with which the widow accompanied her words, because she had taken pains to turn her chair so that she was not facing the man she was to marry; but he thought it very strange that Fanny could pass so long a time without thinking of him, without wanting him near her. The young man walked through the salon, gazing at the young widow, and sometimes stopping beside her. She did not appear to pay the slightest heed to him.