Madame Marmet thought that he lacked judgment, but he was her best friend.

They dined together often with rich friends.
Madame Martin, slender and erect in her zibeline corsage opening on a flood of lace, awakened with the charming brightness of her gray eyes the good man, who was susceptible to the graces of women.

He had told her the day before how the world would come to an end.

He asked her whether she had not been frightened at night by pictures of the earth devoured by flames or frozen to a mass of ice.

While he talked to her with affected gallantry, she looked at the mahogany bookcase.