I remember the glint of gold in the little curls about her temples, as she stood by the lamp.
A pleasant face, too; not exactly classic, but rosy and frank; and then she has that animation which so many pretty women lack.
Madame Menin has forgotten something else.

She has forgotten to shut my window.

She has designs upon my life! I have just shut the window.

The night is calm, its stars twinkling through a haze.

The year ends mournfully.
I remember at school once waking suddenly on such a night as this, to find the moonlight streaming into my eyes.