“Have you got anything to say to me, monsieur?”
“Oh, yes! In the first place, you look even prettier this morning than you did yesterday.”
“Oh! if that’s all it is, I may as well go.”
“One instant, Denise, please; I feel that the more I see you, the more I love you!”
“Well, then, you mustn’t see me any more, monsieur.”
“Does it make you angry to have me love you?”
“Oh no! for I’m pretty sure it ain’t dangerous.”
“If you would listen to me——”
“Adieu, monsieur.”
And Denise started to walk away. But Auguste took her hand and stopped her, gazing tenderly at her,—too tenderly for a fickle youth who gazed so at all pretty women. A seducer’s eyes should express nothing but inconstancy; unluckily, the eyes lend themselves to every sort of scheme. But perhaps Dalville was moved at that moment by genuine feeling, who knows? Who can read the human heart?