exclamations.

"Oh! dear me! how vexatious!"

"What is the matter?" asked Djalma, starting from the gloomy silence in
which he had been plunged for some minutes.

"Alas! my dear prince!" replied Rodin, "the most vulgar and puerile
accident may sometimes cause the greatest inconvenience. I have forgotten
or lost my spectacles. Now, in this twilight, with the very poor eyesight
that years of labor have left me, it will be absolutely impossible for me
to read this most important letter--and an immediate answer is
expected--most simple and categorical--a yes or a no. Times presses; it
is really most annoying. If," added Rodin, laying great stress on his
words, without looking at Djalma, but so as the prince might remark it;
"if only some one would render me the service to read it for me; but
there is no one--no--one!"

"Father," said Djalma, obligingly, "shall I read it for you. When I have
finished it, I shall forget what I have read."

"You?" cried Rodin, as if the proposition of the Indian had appeared to
him extravagant and dangerous; "it is impossible, prince, for you to read
this letter."

"Then excuse my having offered," said Djalma mildly.

"And yet," resumed Rodin, after a moment's reflection, and as if speaking
to himself, "why not?"