His head was bald, except for a fringe of hair at the back which ended at the ears.

The pure blue of his brilliant eyes had acquired the cold tones of polished steel.
"Good-morning, uncle," he said, in a hoarse voice.

"I am your nephew, Philippe Bridau,--a specimen of how the Bourbons treat a lieutenant-colonel, an old soldier of the old army, one who carried the Emperor's orders at the battle of Montereau.

If my coat were to open, I should be put to shame in presence of Mademoiselle.

Well, it is the rule of the game! We hoped to begin it again; we tried it, and we have failed! I am to reside in your city by the order of the police, with a full pay of sixty francs a month.