For you know I'm not handsome.
I didn't need to have that impudent creature tell me so this morning to know it.

And then I'm forty-two--and she such a dear little thing! There were so many others she might have chosen, among the youngest and the richest, to say nothing of my poor Frantz, who loved her so.

But, no, she preferred her old Risler.

And it came about so strangely.

For a long time I noticed that she was sad, greatly changed.