Edouard allowed a faint smile to escape him, and drew near to a quadrille in which some very pretty women were performing.
"What do you think of that little blonde, Monsieur Robineau?"
"Why, nothing extraordinary; a good complexion, and youth; but she doesn’t turn her feet out enough."
"You are hard to suit! I think her very attractive; her eyes are lovely, her bearing full of grace. She does not seem to have made a careful study of dancing, but anyone can see that she enjoys it.—And what of the tall one, opposite?"
"She is not pretty; her nose is much too long, and there seems to be no end to her arms; her hair is badly arranged——"
"Well, I think that she has a very bright face, and it seems to me that, while she is not pretty, she must be attractive. I will wager that her conversation is very agreeable—And that stout brunette that’s dancing now?"
"She is a perfect bundle, and she tears about like one possessed."
"But see how light she is, despite her stoutness! What vivacity gleams in her eyes!"
"I say, Monsieur Edouard, you claim to be weary of bonnes fortunes, and yet you find all women to your liking; they all attract you!"
"Although I am weary of ephemeral liaisons, I did not say that I proposed to love no more; on the contrary, I am at present in search of an opportunity to fall in love in earnest."