It had been useless probably, and undoubtedly it was better so.
If he only could see Jeanne, and assure himself that she would be safe in consequence of his own arrest, then, indeed, life could hold no greater happiness for him.
Above all now he wanted to be cool and calculating, to curb the excitement which the Latin blood in him called forth at every mention of the loved one's name.

He tried to think of Percy, of his calmness, his easy banter with an enemy; he resolved to act as Percy would act under these circumstances.
Firstly, he steadied his voice, and drew his well-knit, slim figure upright.

He called to mind all his friends in England, with their rigid manners, their impassiveness in the face of trying situations.

There was Lord Tony, for instance, always ready with some boyish joke, with boyish impertinence always hovering on his tongue.

Armand tried to emulate Lord Tony's manner, and to borrow something of Percy's calm impudence.
"Citizen Chauvelin," he said, as soon as he felt quite sure of the steadiness of his voice and the calmness of his manner, "I wonder if you are quite certain that that light grip which you have on my arm is sufficient to keep me here walking quietly by your side instead of knocking you down, as I certainly feel inclined to do, for I am a younger, more vigorous man than you." "H'm!" said Chauvelin, who made pretence to ponder over this difficult problem; "like you, citizen St.Just, I wonder--" "It could easily be done, you know." "Fairly easily," rejoined the other; "but there is the guard; it is numerous and strong in this building, and--" "The gloom would help me; it is dark in the corridors, and a desperate man takes risks, remember--" "Quite so! And you, citizen St.Just, are a desperate man just now." "My sister Marguerite is not here, citizen Chauvelin.