"That is precisely what I find fault with."
"Very good; since you think so much of him, this Camille, suppose you command me to marry him?"
"Perhaps, just for the curiosity of the thing," she rejoined, laughing.
"Naughty girl, to mock at her father!" said he. "If these twenty years I have been in servitude, I can scarcely emancipate myself in a day. However, since the great king deigns to hold parley with his ministers, I am Pomponne--let us argue."
"Ah, well! you know as well as I that I have a real friendship for Camille, as the playmate of my childhood. I remember him when he was ever so small, and he remembers me, too, when I was a tiny creature. We played hide-and-seek together, and he humoured me in my ten thousand little caprices. Delightful reminiscences these, but unfortunately I think of them too much when I see him."
"He has passed two years among the Magyars; two years is a good while."
"Bah! he could never possibly have any authority over me. I intend that my husband shall be my government."
"So that you may have the pleasure of governing your government?"
"Besides, I know Camille too well. I could only fall in love with a stranger," said she, heedless of the last sally.
"At the end of five minutes I knew him by heart. He is precisely like all other second secretaries of legation in the world. You may be sure that there is not a single idea in his head that is really his own. Even his figure does not belong to himself; it is the _chef-d'oeuvre_ of the united efforts of his tailor and his shirt-maker."
"According to this, a prime requisite in the man whom you could love is to be poorly clad."
"If ever my heart is touched, it will be because I have met a man who is not like all the other men of my acquaintance. After that I will not positively forbid him to have decent clothing."
M. Moriaz made a little gesture of impatience, and then set out to regain the chaise, which was some distance in advance. When he had proceeded about twenty steps, he paused, and, turning towards Antoinette, who was engaged in readjusting her hood and rebuttoning her twelve-button gloves, he said:
"I have drawn an odd number in the great lottery of this world. In our day there are no romantic girls; the last remaining one is mine."