of jewellery—no bracelets on the arms, no rings on the fingers; just one row of pearls round the throat, that was all—but what pearls! worth a king’s ransom!
As this radiant apparition came towards him, Thibault fell on his knees; he bowed himself, feeling crushed at the sight of this luxury, of this beauty, which to him seemed inseparable.
“Yes, yes, you may well kneel—kneel lower, lower yet—kiss my feet, kiss the carpet, kiss the floor, but I shall not any the more forgive you … you are a monster!”
“In truth, Madame, if I compare myself with you, I am even worse than that!”
“Ah! yes, pretend that you mistake my words and think I am only speaking of your outward appearance, when you know I am speaking of your behaviour … and, indeed, if your perfidious soul were imaged in your face, you would verily and indeed be a monster of ugliness. But yet it is