The
chairs, deserted by the imposing but uninspiring company of governesses,
stood empty. Only, near the grass, was sitting a lady of uncertain age who
came in all weathers, dressed always in an identical style, splendid and
sombre, to make whose acquaintance I would have, at that period,
sacrificed, had it lain in my power, all the greatest opportunities in my
life to come. For Gilberte went up every day to speak to her; she used to
ask Gilberte for news of her "dearest mother" and it struck me that, if I
had known her, I should have been for Gilberte some one wholly different,
some one who knew people in her parents' world. While her grandchildren
played together at a little distance, she would sit and read the Debats,
which she called "My old _Debats_!" as, with an aristocratic familiarity,
she would say, speaking of the police-sergeant or the woman who let the
chairs, "My old friend the police-sergeant," or "The chair-keeper and I,
who are old friends."
Francoise found it too cold to stand about, so we walked to the Pont de la
Concorde to see the Seine frozen over, on to which everyone, even
children, walked fearlessly, as though upon an enormous whale, stranded,
defenceless, and about to be cut up.
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