And yet, by inexorable decree, she belonged to what we used to call "the happiest people under the sun." We ought to stop saying that.
So far as Palmyre knew, the entire masculine wing of the mighty and exalted race, three-fourths of whose blood bequeathed her none of its prerogatives, regarded her as legitimate prey.

The man before her did not.

There lay the fundamental difference that, in her sight, as soon as she discovered it, glorified him.

Before this assurance the cold fierceness of her eyes gave way, and a friendlier light from them rewarded the apothecary's final touch.

He called for more pillows, made a nest of them, and, as she let herself softly into it, directed his next consideration toward his hat and the door.
It was many an hour after he had backed out into the trivial remains of the rain-storm before he could replace with more tranquillizing images the vision of the philosophe reclining among her pillows, in the act of making that uneasy movement of her fingers upon the collar button of her robe, which women make when they are uncertain about the perfection of their dishabille, and giving her inaudible adieu with the majesty of an empress..