Meantime the old Bordeaux glittered like ruby blood in the delicate crystal glasses.

A truffled fillet of venison had just cast its somewhat sharp scent amidst the dying perfume of the roses, when some asparagus made its appearance, a _primeur_ which once had been so rare but which no longer caused any astonishment.
"Nowadays we get it all through the winter," said the Baron with a gesture of disenchantment.
"And so," asked Gerard at the same moment, "the Princess de Harn's _matinee_ is for this afternoon ?" Camille quickly intervened.

"Yes, this afternoon.

Shall you go ?" "No, I don't think so, I shan't be able," replied the young man in embarrassment.
"Ah! that little Princess, she's really deranged you know," exclaimed Duthil.

"You are aware that she calls herself a widow?
But the truth, it seems, is that her husband, a real Prince, connected with a royal house and very handsome, is travelling about the world in the company of a singer.