The snow, dry and dusty, flew up into his face.
Meanwhile, when madame entered the private assembly-room her eyes, blurred with tears, saw only the half dead fire.

With her hand she groped along the mantel, and finding a candle, lit it.

She did not care where she was, so long as she was alone; alone with her unhappy thoughts.

She sat with her back toward the Chevalier, who had fallen into a slight doze.

Presently the silence was destroyed by a hiccoughing sob.