Suddenly he paused in front of a gentleman seated on one of the divans.

The gentleman's elbows were on his knees; he was leaning forward and staring at the pavement, lost apparently in meditations of a somewhat gloomy cast.

But in spite of his bent head Newman recognized him, and in a moment sat down beside him.

Then the gentleman looked up and displayed the expressive countenance of Valentin de Bellegarde.
"What in the world are you thinking of so hard ?" asked Newman.
"A subject that requires hard thinking to do it justice," said Valentin.
"My immeasurable idiocy." "What is the matter now ?" "The matter now is that I am a man again, and no more a fool than usual.
But I came within an inch of taking that girl au serieux." "You mean the young lady below stairs, in a baignoire in a pink dress ?" said Newman.
"Did you notice what a brilliant kind of pink it was ?" Valentin inquired, by way of answer.

"It makes her look as white as new milk." "White or black, as you please.