“You have few illusions, Miss,” Lucien observed.
“I have none, Sir,” she replied with her most gracious smile, turning to Desvignes: “As for the inhabitants of Le Pouliguen, don't think I should worry about their tears. If any tender and sensitive soul has, by any chance, poured one or two of them, they are now dried, be sure.”
“I know a person,” said the shipowner, “who is crying hard right now, I would bet.
“Who is it?”
“Mr. de Séry.”
She could not defend herself with a frown and replied:
“Oh! For this one, I don't care.”
“However...”
“However, he proposed to me, didn't he, you will say. It is even a beautiful action, very rare, I agree; as an adult girl with no dowry, I know what to say about men's disinterest. But my father, I can't forget, took these wedding plans seriously, h
