Her day had come; her heart was no longer free: the bird had allowed itself to be caught.
Mlle.

Moiseney said to her one evening: "It seems certain to me that we never shall see Count Larinski again." She replied in an almost indifferent tone, "No doubt he has found people at Cellarina, or elsewhere, who are more entertaining than we." "You mean to say," said Mlle.

Moiseney, "that M.Moriaz and the _bezique_ has frightened him away.

I would not for worlds speak ill of your father; he has all the good qualities imaginable, except a certain delicacy of sentiment, which is not to be learned in dealing with acids.
Think of condemning a Count Larinski to play _bezique_! There are some things that your father does not and never will understand." M.Moriaz had entered meanwhile.

"Please oblige me by explaining what it is that I do not understand," said he to Mlle.