He could not contest the woeful verdict.
'Twenty years back!' he murmured, writhing.

The baroness was a woman fair to see in the days twenty years back, though Clotilde might think it incredible: she really was once.
Clotilde resumed her doleful shaking of the head; she sighed.

He shrugged; she looked at him, and he blinked a little.

For the first time since they had come together she had a clear advantage, and as it was likely to be a rare occasion, she did not let it slip.

She sighed again.
He was wounded by her underestimate of his ancient conquest.
'Yes--now,' he said, impatiently.
'I cannot feel jealousy, I cannot feel rivalry,' said she, sad of voice.
The humour of her tranced eyes in the shaking head provoked him to defend the baroness for her goodness of heart, her energy of brain.
Clotilde 'tolled' her naughty head.
'But it is a strong face,' she said, 'a strong face--a strong jaw, by Lavater! You were young--and daringly adventurous; she was captivating in her distress.