The laughter and loud talking came to Corona's ears, growing fainter and more distant every second, and the sound was very cruel to her; but she set her strong brave lips together, and leaned back, adjusting the blanket over her old husband's knees with one hand, and shading the sun from her eyes with the parasol she held in the other.
"Thank you, my dear; you are an angel of thoughtfulness," said the old dandy, stroking his wife's hand.

"What a singularly vulgar woman Madame Mayer is! And yet she has a certain little _chic_ of her own." Corona did not withdraw her fingers from her husband's caress.

She was used to it.

After all, he was kind to her in his way.

It would have been absurd to have been jealous of the grossly flattering speeches he made to other women; and indeed he was as fond of turning compliments to his wife as to any one.