"How stupid! I had rather have seen the _Closerie des Genets_ at the Graiete, if that is to be the case the whole evening.
Oh, dear! there is such a pretty lady come into the opposite box, in such a beautiful blue _glace_, trimmed with black velvet and lace!" "Hush! you must not talk while they are singing!" "_Tiens!_ it is no pleasure to come out and be dumb.

But do just see the lady in the opposite box! She looks exactly as if she had walked out of a fashion-book." "My dear child, I don't care one pin to look at her," said I, preferring to keep as much out of sight as possible.

"To admire your pretty face is enough for me." Josephine squeezed my hand affectionately.
"That is just as Emile used to talk to me," said she.
I felt by no means flattered.
"_Regardez done!_" said she, pulling me by the sleeve, just as I was standing up, a little behind her chair, looking at the stage.

"That lady in the blue _glace_ never takes her eyes from our box! She points us out to the gentleman who is with her--do look!" I turned my glass in the direction to which she pointed, and recognised Madame de Marignan! I turned hot and cold, red and white, all in one moment, and shrank back like a snail that has been touched, or a sea-anemone at the first dig of the naturalist.
"Does she know you ?" asked Josephine.
"I--I--probably--that is to say--I have met her in society." "And who is the gentleman ?" That was just what I was wondering.

It was not Delaroche.