Micheline's eyes were softly fixed on him.

Reclining in her armchair, she allowed herself to be carried away with his conversation, and thoroughly enjoyed his society, of which she had been deprived for the last three weeks.

Beside her, Jeanne, silently watching the Prince, was mechanically nibbling, with her white teeth, a bunch of carnations which she held in her hands.

A painful thought contracted Mademoiselle de Cernay's brow, and her pale lips on the red flowers seemed to be drinking blood.
The mistress slowly turned away from this scene.

A shadow had crossed her brow, which had, for a moment, become serene again at the announcement of Pierre's arrival.