A Parisian Romance — page 163: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

154 A PARISIAN ROMANCE Targy, kissing him affectionately. “I am afraid that is one word for me and two for your wife.” “My wife, of course,” returned Henri, turning to Marcelle, who submitted passively to his caress. Madame de Targy returned to her needle-work, Marcelle, after removing her hat and gloves, threw herself down upon the sofa, and Henri seated him- self upon the ottoman between them. He wasa little chilled by Marcelle’s manner. When we love, our vulnerable points are multiplied, and he had been more than once wounded of late by the cold- ness and apparent indifference of the woman whom he loved with all the strength of his honest heart. “How does the baron continue to treat you?” asked Madame de Targy. “Oh! politely enough. He has not much senti- ~' ment, but he is always courteous to me.” * And his wife?” “His wife? Oh! I see her very rarely. You know what a sweet-tempered woman she is. I believe she was born to be a sister of charity.” Marcelle frowned. She was well aware of her own shortcomings, and somehow she did not like to hear another woman praised by her husband for qualities that she was aware were lacking, or at all events, dormant in herself. If Henri had only known it, he held the whole game in his own hands. If he had given Marcelle apparent cause for jealousy, she would soon have. forgotten, in a comichooks-co