He no longer carried his tool-bag; his ragged jacket was buttoned up and distended on the left side by something that he carried in a pocket, doubtless some hunk of bread.

And on being repulsed by the ushers, he walked away, taking the Concorde bridge, slowly, as if chancewise, like a man who knows not whither he is going.
IV.

SOCIAL SIDELIGHTS IN her old faded drawing-room--a Louis Seize _salon_ with grey woodwork--the Countess de Quinsac sat near the chimney-piece in her accustomed place.

She was singularly like her son, with a long and noble face, her chin somewhat stern, but her eyes still beautiful beneath her fine snowy hair, which was arranged in the antiquated style of her youth.
And whatever her haughty coldness, she knew how to be amiable, with perfect, kindly graciousness.
Slightly waving her hand after a long silence, she resumed, addressing herself to the Marquis de Morigny, who sat on the other side of the chimney, where for long years he had always taken the same armchair.

"Ah! you are right, my friend, Providence has left us here forgotten, in a most abominable epoch." "Yes, we passed by the side of happiness and missed it," the Marquis slowly replied, "and it was your fault, and doubtless mine as well." Smiling sadly, she stopped him with another wave of her hand.