Have we not all at some time in our lives met with what seemed the embodiment of our ideal; have we not set aside for the time our petty economies and reserves, and brought forth whatever we had that was best, of thought, or smiles, or vesture?
'Ah, mademoiselle,' he said, 'to take care of such hair for ever--that would be heaven.

I am a Frenchman; I have a soul; I can feel.' 'Should you be afraid to die a sudden death, Mr.Saintou ?' said the quick voice from the depths of a shower of water.
'Ciel! We do not speak of such things, mademoiselle.

There will come a time, I know, when my hair will turn grey; then for the sake of my profession I shall be obliged to dye it.

There will come a time after that when I shall die; but we do not even think of these things, it is better not.' 'But should you be afraid to die now ?' persisted the girl.
'Very much afraid,' said the hairdresser candidly.
'Then don't feel, Mr.Saintou.I never feel.

I make it the business of my life not to feel.