Two banks of the Seine

Summary

"[...]drawn together by a cord; her complexion was dulled by that greenish tan which one acquires when shut away from the sun, amidst dusty books, in over-heated libraries or in the feverish air of lecture halls. Albart seemed to notice none of all those defects of which she was more conscious than anyone else and which often made her secretly unhappy. He saw nothing but her charms. He was always enraptured with her pale, straight nose chiselled like an antique, with her fierce gray eyes crowned with black velvet, -like those of Minerva, he would say, -with the massive coils of her brown hair, which he wanted to take down and bathe his face in. And the tenderness of his words matched his ability to flatter. Ceaselessly, ardently, and without reason, he called her, as in an invocation or a prayer, "Oh, ma Theresoun! Oh, ma chato!" For her he sang slow Provencal songs, mournful as the tunes played by distant hunting-horns, which[...].""