He looked at Mme.
de Lorcy: she herself was regarding him with astonishment; she wondered what could suddenly have overcome him; she could find no explanation for the bewilderment apparent in his countenance.

"It is a mere chance," he thought at last; "she has not intentionally drawn me into a snare." This thought was productive of a sort of half relief.
"_Eh bien!_ what is it ?" she asked.

"Has my poor _salon_ still the misfortune to be hurtful to you ?" He pointed to a _jardiniere_, saying: "You are fond of hyacinths and tuberoses; their perfume overpowered me for a moment.

I fear you think me very effeminate." She replied in a caressing voice: "I take you for a most worthy man who has terrible nerves; but you know by experience that if you have weaknesses I have salts.

Will you have my smelling-bottle ?" "You are a thousand times too good," he rejoined, and bravely marched forward to face the danger.