What is your name ?' he continued, turning to another.
'Mademoiselle de Perigord.' 'Your age ?' 'Twenty.' 'You are very thin and your elbows are red.

My God, Madame Boismaison, are we never to see anything but this same grey gown and the red turban with the diamond crescent ?' 'I have never worn it before, sire ?' 'Then you had another the same, for I am weary of the sight of it.
Let me never see you in it again.

Monsieur de Remusat, I make you a good allowance.

Why do you not spend it ?' 'I do, sire.' 'I hear that you have been putting down your carriage.

I do not give you money to hoard in a bank, but I give it to you that you may keep up a fitting appearance with it.