" "Oui, je sais. Il va bien?" always coming closer to me,
so that I was edging back against the wall, with his hard, bright little
eyes fixed on mine, and always the same sharp, jerky tone. "Il va
parfaitement bien, je vous remercie." Then there was a pause and he made
one or two other remarks which I didn't quite understand--I don't think
his French went very far--but I made out something about "jolies femmes"
and pointed out one or two to him, but he still remained staring into my
face and I was delighted when his minister came up to him (timidly--all
his people were afraid of him) and said some personage wanted to be
presented to him. He shook hands with me, said something about "votre
mari revient bientot," and moved off. The Marechale asked me if I were
not touched by His Majesty's solicitude for my husband's health, and
wouldn't I like to come to the front of the box and sit next to him, but
I told her I couldn't think of engrossing His Majesty's attention, as
there were various important people who wished to be presented to him. I
watched him a little (from a distance), trying to see if anything made
any impression on him (the crowd, the pretty, well-dressed women, the
march past, the long lines of infantry,--rather fatiguing to see, as one
line regiment looks very like another,--the chasseurs with their small
chestnut horses, the dragoons more heavily mounted, and the guns), but
his face remained absolutely impassive, though I think he saw
everything.
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