Had I not myself traced the analogy?
"Faust?" queried Judith at a loss.
"Our friend Faust opposite me," said Pasquale, raising his
champagne glass. "Hasn't he been transformed from the lean and
elderly bookworm into the gay, young gallant about the town?
Once one could scarcely drag him from his cell to the quietest of
dinners, and now--has he told you of his dissipations this past
month, Mrs. Mainwaring
Judith smiled. "Have you been Mephistopheles?"
"What is Mephistopheles?" asked Carlotta.
"The devil," said Pasquale, "who made Sir Marcus young again."
"Oh, that's me," cried Carlotta, clapping her hands. "He does not
read in big books any longer. Oh, I was so frightened when I
first came." (I must say she hid her terrors pretty
effectually.) "He was so wise, and always reading and writing,
and I thought he was fifty. And now he is not wise at all, and
he said two, three days ago I had made him twenty-five."
"If you go on at the rate you have begun, my dear," Judith
remarked in her most charming manner, "in another year you will
have brought him down to long clothes and a feeding-bottle.
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