need of being explicit. This adoptive Parisian was by nature presupposing, but he was admirably gentle (that was why they let him talk to them before the fire—he was such a sympathising oracle), and after the death of his wife and of Mme. de Marignac, who had been her friend too, he was gentler than before. Gaston had been able to see that it made him care less for everything (except indeed the true faith, to which he drew still closer), and this increase of indifference doubtless helped to explain his collapse in relation to common Americans.
"We shall be thankful for any rooms you will give us," the young man said. "We shall fill out the house a little, and won't that be rather an improvement, shrunken as you and I have become?"
"You will fill it out a good deal, I suppose, with Mr. Dosson and the other girl."
"Ah, Francie won't give up her father and sister, certainly; and what should you think of her if she did? But they are not intrusive; they are essentially modest people; they won't put themselves upon us. They have great natural discretion."
"Do you answer for that? Susan does; she is always assuring one of it," Mr. Probert said. "The father has so much that he wouldn't even speak to me."
"He didn't know what to say to you."
