A gold chain rippled over the crab-girl's bosom as she leaned forward to give Jean-Jacques his black silk cap lest he should take cold.

The scene was evidently studied.
"Hey!" cried Joseph, "there's a fine woman, and a rare one! She is made, as they say, to paint.

What flesh-tints! Oh, the lovely tones! what surface! what curves! Ah, those shoulders! She's a magnificent caryatide.

What a model she would have been for one of Titians' Venuses!" Adolphine and Madame Hochon thought he was talking Greek; but Agathe signed to them behind his back, as if to say that she was accustomed to such jargon.
"So you think a creature who is depriving you of your property handsome ?" said Madame Hochon.
"That doesn't prevent her from being a splendid model!--just plump enough not to spoil the hips and the general contour--" "My son, you are not in your studio," said Agathe.

"Adolphine is here." "Ah, true! I did wrong.