“A thousand pardons, monsieur; but am I not on the estate of Monsieur and Madame de Belleville?”
“You are indeed, monsieur, for this avenue, with these superb lindens, also belongs to us; it forms a part of the domain which my wife and I recently purchased.”
“Ah! monsieur, from what I hear, it must be to Monsieur de Belleville himself, in his own person, that I have the great honor of presenting at this moment my most sincere respects and compliments.”
Chamoureau, highly flattered by the respectful tone in which the stranger addressed him, began to think that he was not so ugly after all; and, striking an attitude as if he were on a pedestal, he bowed and replied:
“Yes, monsieur, I am Cha—I am Monsieur de Belleville.”
“Who married Madame Sainte-Suzanne—a charming woman, of the utmost refinement, distinguished to her finger-tips, and with a most superior mind.”
“Well, well!” thought Chamoureau, “he speaks well of my wife! He’s the first one to do that!”
“However, monsieur,” continued Croque, “I do not need to praise your excellent wife to you; for since you have taken her for your cherished companion in life, you must have learned to appreciate her numerous good qualities and her admirable perfections.”
“Certainly, monsieur, I am acquainted with my wife’s perfections; she has superb eyes, jet-black hair———”
“Oh! monsieur, physically she is incomparably beautiful, beyond doubt, but the physique is nothing compared with the heart, the mind and the virtues! There are many beautiful women in the world, but such virtues as those of your good wife are less common—if I dared, I would say very rare!”