"Charming! One of those exquisite faces such as the painters succeed in producing occasionally, but which we see much less frequently in the world."
"The deuce!"
"But she had a sad, melancholy air; when she smiled, the smile seemed to conceal a secret grief. I never saw her dance, although she was very young, eighteen at most; but she seemed to shun the pleasures suited to her age, and to go into society solely to please her husband."
"And De Marcey was very fond of her?"
"Oh! he adored her; he seized every opportunity of giving her pleasure. He was untiring in his devotion to her."
"Did he have any children by her?"
"No; but the lovely Adèle—that was the second wife’s name—loved little Alfred dearly, and manifested all a mother’s affection for him. She died after three years; De Marcey’s grief was so violent that for a long time his life was in danger. At last, the sight of his son, meditation, lapse of time——"
"Yes, time! that is the all-powerful remedy. But for all that, I am no longer surprised that his humor is so changed from what it was! One may overcome the most profound sorrow, but it always leaves its traces. It is like the severe wounds, which heal, but of which one always carries the scars."
With that the old soldier rose, his companion did the same, leaving Robineau alone on his chair, which he at once quitted, saying to himself:
"It is very entertaining to listen to other people’s conversation, and it’s instructive, too; you seem to be paying no attention, but you listen; especially when people talk loud, for that means that they are not saying anything that they wish to conceal. Ah! I must listen to the conversation of some of the ladies; that will be even more amusing, because they always sprinkle their talk with wit; when I say always, I mean of course those who have wit.—Yonder are two ladies who seem to be engaged in a most interesting conversation, for they are talking with great animation. There’s a vacant chair beside them."