“H’m!” he said, regarding the wreckage with a calmer visage. A constant attendant at court, he had the mortification to see every one promoted but himself, and thus bewails his ill-luck. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. She got up, drew up her blind, and stared out of window at a dawn-cold vision of chimneys for a time, and then went and sat on the edge of her bed. And, for a man who'll never see sixty again, he's in excellent preservation, I assure you. She was tempted to touch him in the car as they drove to the empty house, but she refrained for fear of causing a car accident. She felt a little ashamed of herself, a bit of a hypocrite.
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