"I will open my heart to you.

Last May, Monsieur Savinien came to see his mother.

Until then I had never taken notice of him.

When he left home to live in Paris I was a child, and I did not see any difference between him and--all of you--except perhaps that I loved you, and never thought of loving any one else.
Monsieur Savinien came by the mail-post the night before his mother's fete-day; but we did not know it.

At seven the next morning, after I had said my prayers, I opened the window to air my room and I saw the windows in Monsieur Savinien's room open; and Monsieur Savinien was there, in a dressing gown, arranging his beard; in all his movements there was such grace--I mean, he seemed to me so charming.