I was satisfied that I was mistaken in my first thought; the hair was of a completely different colour.

"No, no," said I, "it is not he: yet how like." I was distrait and absent during the whole time I was with Madame D'Anville.

The face of Thornton's companion haunted me like a dream; and, to say the truth, there were also moments when the recollection of my new engagement for the evening made me tired with that which I was enjoying the troublesome honour of keeping.
Madame D'Anville was not slow in perceiving the coldness of my behaviour.

Though a Frenchwoman, she was rather grieved than resentful.
"You are growing tired of me, my friend," she said: "and when I consider your youth and temptations, I cannot be surprised at it--yet, I own, that this thought gives me much greater pain than I could have supposed." "Bah! ma belle amie," cried I, "you deceive yourself--I adore you--I shall always adore you; but it's getting very late." Madame D'Anville sighed, and we parted.

"She is not half so pretty or agreeable as she was," thought I, as I mounted my horse, and remembered my appointment at the ambassador's.
I took unusual pains with my appearance that evening, and drove to the ambassador's hotel in the Rue Faubourg St.Honore, full half an hour earlier than I had ever done before.