"He’s a boarding-school friend; he always used to play leap-frog with me. Since then, we have rather lost sight of each other; he is always in his carriage or in the saddle, and I go on foot."
"That’s better for the health."
"Well, with all his fortune Alfred is bored. Anyone can see that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He is weary of pleasure; and then, he’s a rake, a libertine, a man incapable of true love."
"For a friend of yours, you give him a pretty character!"
"A friend of mine! oh! simply a boarding-school acquaintance, I tell you."
"Is he good-looking?"
"Yes, rather; that is to say, an ordinary face, but already worn and lined."
"Introduce him to me."
Robineau rose with an offended air and went to the mirror to remove his curl-papers.
"If I knew that he would make you happy, mademoiselle," he said, "I certainly would not hesitate! But I doubt if you would find in Alfred the profound and sincere affection which I feel for you."