It oscillated for a long time, with a swing which lent a vague, phantom-like grace to its features, but at last it remained stationary.

It was the smiling countenance of Miette, with her head and shoulders, her coloured neckerchief, her white bodice, and her blue braces.

Silvere next perceived his own image in the other mirror.

Then, knowing that they could see each other, they nodded their heads.

For the first moment, they did not even think of speaking.