scheming pose: “I will never fall in love; my ideal would be to live somewhere within the walls of a cloister,” she said, sentimentally.
They passed by,—their steps and voices died away.
“Jiří, Jiří, silly carp,” the sick man laughed loud.
“Do you know him?”
“My schoolmate,—formerly my friend. It is comical,” he suddenly burst out laughing, “how he, a connoisseur of female hearts (so he deemed himself to be), he, who was tired of all those joys and pleasures, who regarded himself as a blasé, a sly fellow, a diplomat of love, is deceived by the first toad that has crossed his way! It is too funny! Well, there will soon be a wedding. The young lady has a good instinct: a little country jollity, some remarkable restraint, and yet is a little provoking,—add to this a veneer of romantic sentimentality,—and behold that is the creature which our blasé
