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And Benoist replied: "Indeed I will, certainly, indeed I will." Comte de Lormerin had just finished dressing. He cast a parting glance at the large mirror which occupied an entire panel in his dressing-room and smiled. He was really a fine-looking man still, although quite gray.
Lormerin remained bewildered as at the sight of an apparition. He stammered: "Good-day, mademoiselle." Then, turning toward the mother: "Oh! it is you!" In fact, it was she, she whom he had known in bygone days, the Lise who had vanished and come back! In her he found the woman he had won twenty-five years before. This one was even younger, fresher, more childlike.
Tall, slight, elegant, with no sign of a paunch, with a small mustache of doubtful shade, which might be called fair, he had a walk, a nobility, a "chic," in short, that indescribable something which establishes a greater difference between two men than would millions of money. He murmured: "Lormerin is still alive!" And he went into the drawing-room where his correspondence awaited him.
Lormerin remained bewildered as at the sight of an apparition. He stammered: "Good-day, mademoiselle." Then, turning toward the mother: "Oh! it is you!" In fact, it was she, she whom he had known in bygone days, the Lise who had vanished and come back! In her he found the woman he had won twenty-five years before. This one was even younger, fresher, more childlike.
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