Man is a strange combination of contradictions, especially a man who is in love.

In the same way he had bestowed both blessings and imprecations upon Heaven for permitting him to meet Antoinette.

During some moments he had lost countenance, but had quickly recovered himself; he had formed the generous resolution to act out consistently his role of friend and brother.

He had acquitted himself of it so well at Saint Moritz, that Antoinette believed him cured of the caprice of a day with which she had inspired him and which she had never taken seriously.
"The last time I saw you," said she, "you dropped a remark that pained me, but I am pleased to think that you did not mean to do so." "I am a terrible culprit," he rejoined, "and I smite myself upon the breast therefore.

I was wanting in respect to your idol." "Fortunately, my idol knew nothing about it, and, if he had known, I would have appeased him by saying: 'Pardon this young man; he does not always know what he is saying.'" "He even seldom knows it; but what help is there for it?
A man given to fainting always did seem a curiosity to me.