"
But this very summer, when he had sung it on the birthday of the little
Zoe, his voice had seemed out of tune. At first he had thought that
Carmen was playing his accompaniment badly on the guitar, but she had
sharply protested against that, and had appealed to M. Fille, who was
present at the pretty festivity. He had told the truth, as a Clerk of
the Court should. He said that Jean Jacques' voice was not as he had so
often heard it; but he would also frankly admit that he did not think
madame played the song as he had heard her play it aforetime, and that
covered indeed twelve years or more--in fact, since the birth of the
renowned Zoe.
M. Fille had wondered much that night of June at the listless manner and
listless playing of Carmen Barbille. For a woman of such spirit and fire
it would seem as though she must be in ill-health to play like that. Yet
when he looked at her he saw only the comeliness of a woman whom the life
of the haut habitant had not destroyed or, indeed, dimmed. Her skin was
smooth, she had no wrinkles, and her neck was a pillar of softly moulded
white flesh, around which a man might well string unset jewels, if he had
them; for the tint and purity of her skin would be a better setting than
platinum or fine gold.
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