So that if not the rose, they could at least be near the rose and become impregnated with her colors and her perfumes.

Such apparent familiarity heightened them singularly in their own estimation and in that of their associates.
Now, although Camors did not yet occupy that bright spot in the heaven of fashion which was surely to be his one day, still he could here pass for a demigod, and as such inspire Madame Lescande and her mother with a sentiment of most violent curiosity.

His early intimacy with Lescande had always connected a peculiar interest with his name: and they knew the names of his horses--most likely knew the names of his mistresses.
So it required all their natural tact to conceal from their guest the flutter of their nerves caused by his sacred presence; but they did succeed, and so well that Camors was slightly piqued.

If not a coxcomb, he was at least young: he was accustomed to please: he knew the Princess de Clam-Goritz had lately applied to him her learned definition of an agreeable man--"He is charming, for one always feels in danger near him!" Consequently, it seemed a little strange to him that the simple mother of the simple wife of simple Lescande should be able to bear his radiance with such calmness; and this brought him out of his premeditated reserve.
He took the trouble to be irresistible--not to Madame Lescande, to whom he was studiously respectful--but to Madame Mursois.

The whole evening he scattered around the mother the social epigrams intended to dazzle the daughter; Lescande meanwhile sitting with his mouth open, delighted with the success of his old schoolfellow.
Next afternoon, Camors, returning from his ride in the Bois, by chance passed the Avenue Maillot.