He was a tall, grave, spare man, with all the appearance of having
served in the army. His white hair showed him to be past sixty, and
his face betrayed some violent grief controlled by religion.

The second unnamed person, who seemed to be something between a master
of rhetoric and a business agent, was of ordinary height, plump, but
active withal. His face had the jovial expression which characterizes
those of lawyers and notaries in Paris.

The dress of these four personages revealed a neatness due to the most
scrupulous personal care. The same hand, and it was that of Manon,
could be seen in every detail. Their coats were perhaps ten years old,
but they were preserved, like the coats of vicars, by the occult power
of the servant-woman, and the constant care with which they were worn.
These men seemed to wear on their backs the livery of a system of
life; they belonged to one thought, their looks said the same word,
their faces breathed a gentle resignation, a provoking quietude.

"Is it an indiscretion, madame," said Godefroid, "to ask the names of
these gentlemen? I am ready to explain my life; can I know as much of
theirs as custom will allow?"

"That gentleman," said Madame de la Chanterie, motioning to the tall,
thin man, "is Monsieur Nicolas; he is a colonel of gendarmerie,
retired with the rank of brigadier-general. And this," she added,
looking towards the stout little man, "is a former councillor of the
royal courts of Paris, who retired from the magistracy in 1830. His
name is Monsieur Joseph. Though you have only been with us one day, I
will tell you that in the world Monsieur Nicolas once bore the name of
the Marquis de Montauran, and Monsieur Joseph that of Lecamus, Baron