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"I thought that we might take a drive in the Champs Elysees to try the carriage." "Go without me," said Camusot in a melancholy voice; "I shall not dine with you. It is my wife's birthday, I had forgotten that." "Poor Musot, how badly bored you will be!" she said, putting her arms about his neck.
"Poor Musot, take all that you gave to me back again; I do not want to keep anything of yours; for I love this boy here madly, not for his intellect, but for his beauty. I would rather starve with him than have millions with you." Camusot sank into a low chair, hid his face in his hands, and said not a word. "Would you like us to go away?" she asked.
"I thought that we might take a drive in the Champs Elysees to try the carriage." "Go without me," said Camusot in a melancholy voice; "I shall not dine with you. It is my wife's birthday, I had forgotten that." "Poor Musot, how badly bored you will be!" she said, putting her arms about his neck.
"Poor Musot, take all that you gave to me back again; I do not want to keep anything of yours; for I love this boy here madly, not for his intellect, but for his beauty. I would rather starve with him than have millions with you." Camusot sank into a low chair, hid his face in his hands, and said not a word. "Would you like us to go away?" she asked.
And I confess it; I cannot live without you." The poor man's gentleness, stripped as he was of his happiness just as happiness had reached its height, touched Lucien deeply. Coralie was quite unsoftened by it. "Come as often as you wish, poor Musot," she said; "I shall like you all the better when I don't pretend to love you."
And I confess it; I cannot live without you." The poor man's gentleness, stripped as he was of his happiness just as happiness had reached its height, touched Lucien deeply. Coralie was quite unsoftened by it. "Come as often as you wish, poor Musot," she said; "I shall like you all the better when I don't pretend to love you."
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