But that slender one in the black dress, which daintily draped her bosom, was the only one among these Venuses of whom you might have said that she reminded you somehow of Marguerite: her face was fresh, her blue eyes had not sunk in their sockets, her hair was beautifully combed over her forehead. She tried to smoke a cigarette, but it was difficult work, as the smoke choked her and she coughed and laughed, until her small teeth shone like a row of pearls.
“Miss Lucy!” called the madam.
She came and bowed to the guest with graceful playfulness. She seated herself opposite him, looked into his eyes, and burst out laughing. The madam went out.
The laughter of those blue eyes shook every nerve of my hero: his ironical apathy fell from him, and a gentle warmth pervaded his whole soul. Something urged him on to laugh aloud with the careless laughter of a child, to joke harmlessly, and then again
