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Chapter 4

           ‘Writesomethinginmysister’salbumforme,’Isaidrathertimidly,forhewasinastateofgreatdejectionatthemoment.Heturned,calledforapen,tookthealbum.‘Howoldisyoursister?’heasked,holdingthepeninhishand.‘Threeyearsold,’Isaid.‘Ah,petitefillealors!’andhewroteinthealbum:

           “‘Nementezjamais!Napoléon(votreamisincère).’

           “Suchadvice,andatsuchamoment,youmustallow,prince,was

           “Yes,quiteso;veryremarkable.”

           “Thispageofthealbum,framedingold,hungonthewallofmysister’sdrawing-roomallherlife,inthemostconspicuousplace,tillthedayofherdeath;whereitisnow,Ireallydon’tknow.Heavens!it’stwoo’clock!HowIhavekeptyou,prince!Itisreallymostunpardonableofme.”

           Thegeneralrose.

           “Oh,notintheleast,”saidtheprince.“Onthecontrary,Ihavebeensomuchinterested,I’mreallyverymuchobligedtoyou.”

           “Prince,”saidthegeneral,pressinghishand,andlookingathimwithflashingeyes,andanexpressionasthoughhewereundertheinfluenceofasuddenthoughtwhichhadcomeuponhimwithstunningforce.“Prince,youaresokind,sosimple-minded,thatsometimesIreallyfeelsorryforyou!Igazeatyouwithafeelingofrealaffection.Oh,Heavenblessyou!Mayyourlifeblossomandfructifyinlove.Mineisover.Forgiveme,forgiveme!”

           Helefttheroomquickly,coveringhisfacewithhishands.

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