"Your daughter has been free to marry again for two years, you say, and
hasn't made up her mind yet?" said Germain.

"She doesn't choose to hurry, and she's right. Although she has rather a
lively way with her, and you may think she doesn't reflect much, she's a
woman of great good sense and one who knows very well what she's about."

"I don't see how that can be," said Germain ingenuously, "for she has
three gallants in her train, and if she knew what she wanted, at least
two of them would seem to her to be in the way and she would request
them to stay at home."

"Why so? you don't know anything about it, Germain. She doesn't want
either the old man or the one-eyed one or the young one, I'm almost
certain of it; but if she should turn them away, people would say she
meant to remain a widow and no others would come."

"Ah, yes! they act as a sign-post for her!"

"As you say. Where's the harm if they like it?"

"Every one to his taste!" said Germain.

"That wouldn't be to your taste, I see. But come, now, we can come to an
understanding: supposing that she prefers you, the field could be left
clear for you."

"Yes, supposing! And how long must I stand with my nose in the air
before I can find out?"