by Honore De Balzac (Author)

" ...]some of the young men gave the couple, and the sad expression left his face for a moment. Although he had long since reached the time of life when a man is fain to be content with such illusory delights as vanity bestows, he began to smile. "They think you are my wife," he said in the young lady's ear, and he held himself erect and walked with slow steps, which filled his daughter with despair. He seemed to take up the coquette's part for her; perhaps of the two, he was the more gratified by the curious glances directed at those ...]."

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