My grandmother has been getting two rooms ready for them." "What's that to me ?" said Max, taking up his glass and swallowing the contents at a gulp with a comic gesture.
Max was then thirty-four years old.

A candle standing near him threw a gleam upon his soldierly face, lit up his brow, and brought out admirably his clear skin, his ardent eyes, his black and slightly curling hair, which had the brilliancy of jet.

The hair grew vigorously upward from the forehead and temples, sharply defining those five black tongues which our ancestors used to call the "five points." Notwithstanding this abrupt contrast of black and white, Max's face was very sweet, owing its charm to an outline like that which Raphael gave to the faces of his Madonnas, and to a well-cut mouth whose lips smiled graciously, giving an expression of countenance which Max had made distinctively his own.

The rich coloring which blooms on a Berrichon cheek added still further to his look of kindly good-humor.

When he laughed heartily, he showed thirty-two teeth worthy of the mouth of a pretty woman.