But as soon as I saw you, I said to myself.

'Ah, there is a man with whom I shall get on.

He has the good-nature of success and none of the morgue; he has not our confoundedly irritable French vanity.' In short, I took a fancy to you.
We are very different, I'm sure; I don't believe there is a subject on which we think or feel alike.

But I rather think we shall get on, for there is such a thing, you know, as being too different to quarrel." "Oh, I never quarrel," said Newman.
"Never! Sometimes it's a duty--or at least it's a pleasure.

Oh, I have had two or three delicious quarrels in my day!" and M.de Bellegarde's handsome smile assumed, at the memory of these incidents, an almost voluptuous intensity.
With the preamble embodied in his share of the foregoing fragment of dialogue, he paid our hero a long visit; as the two men sat with their heels on Newman's glowing hearth, they heard the small hours of the morning striking larger from a far-off belfry.