Sometimes we were both so obstinate that we fought, but after that he
was willing to renounce the privilege of the last word. He never could
have endured bringing trouble upon his fellow-students. He never
hesitated to admit a fault; and, what is much better, once when one of
his comrades, who was a good student, had inadvertently made a foolish
mistake which might have lowered his marks, I saw Georges accuse himself
and take the punishment in his place. His comrade never knew anything
about it, for Georges did that sort of thing almost clandestinely, and
with the simplicity and modesty which were always the great charm of his
character."

This sense of honor he had drawn in with his mother's milk; and his
father had developed it in him. Everything about him indicated pride:
the upright carriage of his head, the glance of his black eyes which
seemed to pierce the objects he looked at. He loved the Stanislas
uniform which his father had worn before him, and which had been worn by
Gouraud and Baratier, whose fame was then increasing, and Rostand, then
in all the new glory of _Cyrano_ and _L'Aiglon_. He had an exact
appreciation of his own dignity. Though he listened attentively in
class, he would never ask for information or advice from his classmates.
He hated to be trifled with, and made it understood that he intended to
be respected. Never in all his life did he have a low thought. If he
ever varied from the nobleness which was natural to him, silence was
sometimes sufficient to bring him to himself.

With a mobile face, full of contrasts, he was sometimes the roguish boy
who made the whole class shake with laughter, and involved it in a
whirlwind of games and tricks, and at others the serious, thoughtful
pupil, who was considered to be self-absorbed, distant, and not inclined
to reveal himself to anybody. The fierce soldier of the _petite guerre_