Every one who looked at her
bought of her. She possessed something that was more attractive even
than her beauty; though I question, if, without her glossy brown hair,
her soft, dark eyes, her glorious complexion, her round, dimpled cheek
and chin, her gentle winning smile, and her exquisite taste in dress--I
question, if, without all these, her quiet, modest demeanor and
unaffected simplicity and propriety would have attracted quite as much
attention as they always did.
I had not bought many bouquets of Therese before she began to recognize
me as I came up, and to greet me with a smile and a _"Bon jour,
Monsieur,"_ sweeter in tone and accent than any I had ever heard before.
What a voice hers was! Its tones were like those of a silver bell; and I
found that she always had my bunch of violets or heliotrope ready for me
by the time I reached her.
My frugal meal over, I was in the habit of visiting a neighboring
_cafe,_ where I read the papers, drank my evening cup of coffee, and, as
I smoked my cigar or pipe and twirled my posies in my fingers or held
them to my nose, would wonder who she was who sold them to me, if she
ever thought of those who bought them of her, and if she distinguished
me above her other customers.
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