human
She was very pretty, I suppose?
gpt
No; she never was that. It seems she was short, thin, with no bust or hips, at her best, I am told, and nobody can remember that she was pretty, even when she was young.
human
Then how can you explain ...?
gpt
How? the magistrate exclaimed.
human
Well! what about the eyes? You could not have looked at them?
gpt
Yes, yes, you are right, I replied.
human
Those eyes explain many things, certainly. They are the eyes of an innocent child.
gpt
Ah! he exclaimed again, enthusiastically,
human
Cleopatra, Diana of Poiters, Ninon de L'Enclos, all the queens of love who were adored when they were growing old, must have had eyes like hers. A woman who has such eyes can never grow old. But if Babette lives to be a hundred, she will always be loved as she has been, and as she is.
gpt
As she is! Bah! By whom, pray?
human
By all the old men in the asylum, by all those who have preserved a fiber that can be touched, a corner of their heart that can be inflamed, or the least spark of desire left.
gpt
Do you think so?
human
I am sure of it. And the superintendent loves her more than any of them do.
gpt
Impossible!
human
I would stake my head on it.
gpt
Well, after all, it is possible, and even probable; it is even certain. I now remember ...
human
And who is _la Friezê_? I asked the magistrate
gpt
I suppose you know that also?
human
He is a retired butcher, who had both his legs frozen in the war of 1870, and whom she is very fond of. No doubt he is a cripple, with two wooden legs, but still a vigorous man enough, in spite of his fifty-three years. The loins of a Hercules and the face of a satyr. The superintendent is quite jealous of him!
gpt
Does she love _la Friezê_?
human
Yes; he is the chosen lover.