This man was like a mountain breeze to one who has breathed nothing but the faded air of drawing-rooms.
She drew in her train with a pretty curve of her gloved wrist.
"You look as if you did not know what it was to be tired; but perhaps you will sit down.

I can make room." He accepted with alacrity.
"And now," she said, "let me hear where you have been.

I have only had time to shake hands with you the last twice that we have met! You said you had been away." "Yes; I have been to Russia." Her face was steadily beautiful, composed and ready.
"Ah! How interesting! I have been in Petersburg.

I love Russia." While she spoke she was actually looking across the room toward the tall Frenchman, her late companion.
"Do you ?" answered Paul eagerly.

His face lighted up after the manner of those countenances that belong to men of one idea.