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These valiant efforts, an Austerlitz of vanity or of love, then set the fashion for lower spheres by the time the inventive creatress has originated something new. This evening, which Valerie meant to be a success for her, she had placed three patches. She had washed her hair with some lye, which changed its hue for a few days from a gold color to a duller shade.

"How kind of you," she murmured. "I am so stupid though. Could I really learn? And wouldn't it take up a good deal of my time every morning?" Valerie smiled. "Well, it's a nice way of spending one's time, don't you think?" This was, somehow, quite unanswerable, and Mary had never thought of it in that light.

Thanks to these tactics, based on the vanity of the man in the lover stage of his existence, Valerie sat down to table with four men, all pleased and eager to please, all charmed, and each believing himself adored; called by Marneffe, who included himself, in speaking to Lisbeth, the five Fathers of the Church. Baron Hulot alone at first showed an anxious countenance, and this was why.

We can both spend the night here." "Proof!" was all the Baron could say. Crevel took a flat candlestick and led Hulot into the adjoining room, where he saw, on a sofa, a superb dressing-gown belonging to Valerie, which he had seen her wear in the Rue Vanneau, to display it before wearing it in Crevel's little apartment.

The Chancellor was moved for once. 'You are out of your senses! he said sternly. 'It is true! Both men looked around. Valerie had entered. 'Father, you must hear me before you before you She glanced at Rallywood and stopped. 'Go, Valerie; you have nothing to do with these things. Selpdorf met her as she came towards him. 'You must hear me to-night, father.

Here, above all, something might turn its back on her for ever, unless she were disloyal to her own strange trust. A good many things had been happening to Valerie of late, but this was really the worst, and as she looked at the landmark it grew to be the headstone of a grave, and she saw that under it might lie her youth.

'What are your reasons? he asked, after a pause. 'I do not like Baron von Elmur. 'That is unfortunate, but your dislike may be overcome when you know him better. 'Oh, no! never! 'Why not? 'Is it possible to explain a dislike? asked Valerie rather petulantly.

Valerie was still extremely handsome, but her face had grown sharper, her form thinner and more angular; there was something in her eye and lip, discontented, restless, almost querulous: such is the too common expression in the face of those born to love, and condemned to be indifferent.

"To the inner sense, yes; but to the outer sense not always. Virtues are often harsh to the ear errors very sweet-voiced. The sirens did not sing out of tune. Better to stop one's ears than glide on Scylla or be merged into Charybdis." "Monsieur," cried Valerie, with a pretty brusquerie which became her well, "you talk like a Vandal."

Valerie's last fancy was a madness; above all, she was bent on getting her group; she was even thinking of going one morning to the studio to see Wenceslas, when a serious incident arose of the kind which, to a woman of that class, may be called the spoil of war. This is how Valerie announced this wholly personal event. She was breakfasting with Lisbeth and her husband.