"It's of no use for me to try to distract my thoughts--I cannot do it. I used to be so fond of reading! This book is intensely interesting, they say, and I have no idea what I'm reading; nothing interests me now! even music no longer has any charm for me; my poor piano is neglected; everything is a bore. Mon Dieu! shall I always be like this? Oh! no, that would be ghastly! It will pass away; it must pass away! Father has already noticed several times that I seemed sad, and it worries him; he thinks that I am sick. Oh! I don't want to make him uneasy. But it isn't my fault; I do all that I possibly can to drive out of my mind the memory of--that person--and it keeps coming back. And yet, I know perfectly well that there's no sense in it--that I'm a little fool. It's of no use for me to argue--I cannot cure myself!" The door of the salon opened; it was Monsieur Gerbault. The girl hurriedly wiped away the tears that were rolling down her cheeks, and strove to assume a smiling expression, as she went to meet her father. "I have come to tell you, Adolphine, that we shall have two guests at dinner to-day." "You are very late in telling me, father. But, no matter! I will go and tell Madeleine." "I couldn't tell you any earlier; I met Monsieur Batonnin only a moment ago. He said: 'I am going to play a game of bezique with you this evening.' I said: 'Come and dine with us, informally.'" "Monsieur Batonnin! I don't care much for that young man." "Still he is very gallant--and so courteous." "He is forever paying compliments--it's a horrible bore! And then, he always has a smile on his face. Tell me, papa, is that natural? Can there be anyone in the world who is always satisfied and happy?" "I should say that it was rather difficult. However, there are optimists who look at the bright side of everything." "For my part, I believe that those people are not sincere, that they simply make a point of concealing what they think.--Who is the other one, father?" "Monsieur Clairval." "I am very fond of him; he isn't complimentary, at all events, and yet that doesn't prevent his being agreeable. He has plenty of wit, and doesn't flaunt it in everybody's face. I do like that so much--wit that doesn't parade itself!" "But, my child, if one has wit without showing it, I should say that it was precisely equivalent to having none at all." "Oh! it always leaks out, father, here and there, even if it's only in the smile." "I just missed inviting Monsieur de la Beriniere, too." "Oh! papa, how fortunate it is that you missed it!" "Why so, pray? The count is very pleasant. He's a very distinguished man in all respects." "I don't say that he isn't, but for a count we should have had to make preparations; and then, he has been coming to see us quite often of late." "And that bores you?" "It doesn't amuse me overmuch."