“Just because I am not clever, and that is all you think of. Nobody in the world but you cares for cleverness.”

“On the contrary, I consider you are clever, in your way⁠—very smart indeed. But you were talking of breaking hearts⁠—that edifying amusement into the merits of which I don’t quite enter; pray on whom does your vanity lead you to think you have done execution tonight?”

She approached her lips to my ear⁠—“Isidore and Alfred de Hamal are both here,” she whispered.

“Oh! they are? I should like to see them.”

“There’s a dear creature! your curiosity is roused at last. Follow me, I will point them out.”