"
He really had some esteem for Mathieu, for he knew that the young fellow
possessed a quick appreciative mind. Mathieu began to smile, outwardly
yielding to this attempt to create a diversion, but determined at heart
that he would not leave the place until he had obtained the promise of a
new roof. He took hold of a book, clad in a marvellous binding, which
Seguin had fetched from a bookcase and tendered with religious care. On
the cover of soft snow-white leather was incrusted a long silver lily,
intersected by a tuft of big violet thistles. The title of the work,
"Beauty Imperishable," was engraved up above, as in a corner of the sky.
"Ah! what a delightful conception, what delightful coloring!" declared
Mathieu, who was really charmed. "Some bindings nowadays are perfect
gems." Then he noticed the title: "Why, it's Monsieur Santerre's last
novel!" said he.
Seguin smiled and glanced at the writer, who had drawn near. And when he
saw him examining the book and looking quite moved by the compliment paid
to it, he exclaimed: "My dear fellow, the binder brought it here this
morning, and I was awaiting an opportunity to surprise you with it.
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