. For lack of anything better, Croisilles had
to content himself with fixing his gaze upon his lady-love, not lifting
his eyes from her for a moment. He noticed that she seemed pre-occupied
and moody, and that she spoke to every one with a sort of repugnance. Her
box was surrounded, as may be imagined, by all the fops of the
neighborhood, each of whom passed several times before her in the gallery,
totally unable to enter the box, of which her father filled more than
three-fourths. Croisilles noticed further that she was not using her
opera-glasses, nor was she listening to the play. Her elbows resting on
the balustrade, her chin in her hand, with her far-away look, she seemed,
in all her sumptuous apparel, like some statue of Venus disguised en
marquise. The display of her dress and her hair, her rouge, beneath which
one could guess her paleness, all the splendor of her toilet, did but the
more distinctly bring out the immobility of her countenance. Never had
Croisilles seen her so beautiful. Having found means, between the acts, to
escape from the crush, he hurried off to look at her from the passage
leading to her box, and, strange to say, scarcely had he reached it, when
Mademoiselle Godeau, who had not stirred for the last hour, turned round.
She started slightly as she noticed him and only cast a glance at him;
then she resumed her former attitude. Whether that glance expressed
surprise, anxiety, pleasure or love; whether it meant "What, not dead!" or
"God be praised! There you are, living!"--I do not pretend to explain. Be
that as it may; at that glance, Croisilles inwardly swore to himself to
die or gain her love.

IV

Of all the obstacles which hinder the smooth course of love, the greatest
is, without doubt, what is called false shame, which is indeed a very
potent obstacle.

Croisilles was not troubled with this unhappy failing, which both pride
and timidity combine to produce; he was not one of those who, for whole
months, hover round the woman they love, like a cat round a caged bird. As
soon as he had given up the idea of drowning himself, he thought only of
letting his dear Julie know that he lived solely for her. But how could he
tell her so? Should he present himself a second time at the mansion of the
fermier-general, it was but too certain that M. Godeau would have him
ejected.

Julie, when she happened to take a walk, never went without her maid; it
was therefore useless to undertake to follow