You walk from the hotel over a carpet of pine needles, and when you get into the open, violets and anemones bloom about your feet, and the scent of rosemary and myrtle will be in your nostrils; yet instead of singing for joy the bird droops his feathers and hangs his head as if he had the 'pip.'" "Oh, don't," he cried, "don't," and he looked at me with tears filling his eyes; "you don't know, Frank, what a great romantic passion is." "Is that what you are suffering from ?" "Yes, a great romantic passion." "Good God!" I laughed; "who has inspired this new devotion ?" "Don't make fun of me, Frank, or I will not tell you; but if you will listen I will try to tell you all about it, for I think you should know, besides, I think telling it may ease my pain, so come into the cabin and listen.
"Do you remember once in the summer you wired me from Calais to meet you at Maire's restaurant, meaning to go afterwards to Antoine's Theatre, and I was very late?
You remember, the evening Rostand was dining at the next table.

Well, it was that evening.

I drove up to Maire's in time, and I was just getting out of the victoria when a little soldier passed, and our eyes met.

My heart stood still; he had great dark eyes and an exquisite olive-dark face--a Florentine bronze, Frank, by a great master.

He looked like Napoleon when he was first Consul, only--less imperious, more beautiful....
"I got out hypnotised, and followed him down the Boulevard as in a dream; the _cocher_ came running after me, I remember, and I gave him a five franc piece, and waved him off; I had no idea what I owed him; I did not want to hear his voice; it might break the spell; mutely I followed my fate.