“Mademoiselle Prefere made her appearance all in blue—advanced, retreated, skipped, tripped, cried out, sighed, cast her eyes down, rolled her eyes up, bewildered herself with excuses—said she dared not, and nevertheless dared—said she would never dare again, and nevertheless dared again—made courtesies innumerable—made, in short, all the fuss she could.
«What a lot of books!» she screamed. «And have you really read them all, Monsieur Bonnard?»
«Alas! I have,» I replied, «and that is just the reason that I do not know anything; for there is not a single one of those books which does not contradict some other book; so that by the time one has read them all one does not know what to think about anything.
That is just my condition, Madame.»
Thereupon she called Jeanne for the purpose of communicating her impressions. But Jeanne was looking out of the window.
«How beautiful it is!» she said to us.”