"Are you not my only joy, the sweet lamp that gives me light in the
cavern where I work day and night?"

"Dear Victor!"

She was a tall, slender young woman with chestnut hair, whose thick curls
clustering about her forehead almost touched her eyebrows. Her beautiful
eyes were dark, her nose short, while her superb teeth and rich, ruby-
colored lips gave her the effect of a pretty doll; and she had gayety,
playful vivacity, gracious effrontery, and a passionate caressing glance.
Dressed extravagantly, like the Parisian woman who has not a sou, but who
adorns everything she wears, she had an ease, a freedom, a natural
elegance that was charming. With this she had the voice of a child, a
joyous laugh, and an expression of sensibility on her fresh face.

"I have come to dine with you," she said, gayly, "and I am so hungry."

He made a gesture that was not lost upon her.

"Do I disturb you?" she asked, uneasily.

"Not at all."

"Must you go out?"

"No."

"Then why did you make a gesture that showed indifference, or, at least,
embarrassment?"