Moiseney, but reserved his chief assiduities for Mr.Moriaz.He addressed his conversation more particularly to him, and listened to him with profound respect.

A professor is always sensible to this kind of courtesy.
After the coffee was served, the crusting of ice in which Count Abel had incased himself began to thaw.

He had been all over the world; he knew the United States and Turkey, New Orleans and Bucharest, San Francisco and Constantinople.

His travels had been profitable to him: he had observed men and things, countries and institutions, customs and laws, the indigenous races and the settlers, all but the transient visitors, with whom he seemed to have had no time to occupy himself; at least they formed no part of his conversation.

He related several anecdotes, with some show of sprightliness; his melancholy began to melt away, he even indulged in little bursts of gaiety, and Antoinette could not avoid comparing him and his discourse to some of the more rigorous passages of the Engadine, where, amid the black shades of the pines, among frowning rocks, there are to be found lilies, gentians, and lakes.
He resumed his gravity to reply to a question of M.Moriaz concerning Poland.