Page:The Writings of Prosper Merimee-Volume 5.djvu/142

120 small suburban tradesmen. Nevertheless, every time anyone came into the station, or a carriage drew up at the door, the heart of the young man with the blue spectacles became inflated like a balloon, his knees trembled, his bag almost fell from his hands, and his glasses off his nose, where, we may mention in passing, they were seated crookedly.

His agitation increased when, after a long wait, a woman appeared by a side door, from precisely the direction in which he had not kept a constant lookout. She was dressed in black with a thick veil over her face, and she held a brown morocco leather bag in her hand, containing, as I subsequently discovered, a wondrous morning-gown and blue satin slippers. The woman and the young man advanced towards each other looking to right and left, but never in front of them. They came up to one another, shook hands, and stood several minutes without speaking a word, trembhng and gasping, a prey to one of those intense emotions for which I would give in exchange a hundred years of a philosopher's life.

"Leon," said the young woman, when she had summoned up courage to speak (I had forgotten to mention that she was young and pretty) — "Leon, what a happy thought! I