Had you a delicate, blond, and romantic mother, and do you wear her portrait on your heart?
have you unfathomable green eyes?
have you adventures to relate?
have you visited California?
have you swept the streets of San Francisco?
have you exchanged bullets with the Cossacks?
have you been killed in three combats and in ten skirmishes?
I fear you have not even thought of dying once.

Have you tried all professions, without succeeding in one?
have you invented a gun which burst?
and, above all, are you as poor as a church-mouse?
What! is it possible that you possess none of these fine advantages, and yet are audacious enough to ask me for my daughter's hand ?" M.Moriaz ended this harangue as the Samaden mail-coach passed.

Count Abel, seated on the outside, bowed and waved his hand to them.
"Look well at that man," said M.Moriaz to Camille, "for he is the enemy." And then, instead of giving him the remaining information that the youth desired, he said: "Go away and forget; it is the best thing that you can do." "You do not know me yet," replied Camille.

"I am obstinate, I fire to the last cartridge.

I will follow your steps.