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"
You
are
in
a
bad
temper
,
"
said
the
marquise
de
la
Mole
to
her
;
"
let
me
caution
you
,
it
is
ungracious
at
a
ball
.
"
"
I
only
have
a
headache
,
"
answered
Mathilde
disdainfully
,
"
it
is
too
hot
here
.
"
At
this
moment
the
old
Baron
Tolly
became
ill
and
fell
down
,
as
though
to
justify
mademoiselle
de
la
Mole
’
s
remark
.
They
were
obliged
to
carry
him
away
.
They
talked
about
apoplexy
.
It
was
a
disagreeable
incident
.
Mathilde
did
not
bother
much
about
it
.
She
made
a
point
of
never
looking
at
old
men
,
or
at
anyone
who
had
the
reputation
of
being
bad
company
.
She
danced
in
order
to
escape
the
conversation
about
the
apoplexy
,
which
was
not
apoplexy
inasmuch
as
the
baron
put
in
an
appearance
the
following
day
.
"
But
Sorel
does
not
come
,
"
she
said
to
herself
after
she
had
danced
.
She
was
almost
looking
round
for
him
when
she
found
him
in
another
salon
.
Astonishing
,
but
he
seemed
to
have
lost
that
impassive
coldness
that
was
so
natural
to
him
;
he
no
longer
looked
English
.
"
He
is
talking
to
comte
Altamira
who
was
sentenced
to
death
,
"
said
Mathilde
to
herself
.
"
His
eye
is
full
of
a
sombre
fire
;
he
looks
like
a
prince
in
disguise
;
his
haughtiness
has
become
twice
as
pronounced
.
"
Julien
came
back
to
where
she
was
,
still
talking
to
Altamira
.
She
looked
at
Altamira
fixedly
,
studying
his
features
in
order
to
trace
those
lofty
qualities
which
can
earn
a
man
the
honour
of
being
condemned
to
death
.
"
Yes
,
"
he
was
saying
to
comte
Altamira
as
he
passed
by
her
,
"
Danton
was
a
real
man
.
"
