"Delicious," said Madame Melmotte, repressing a yawn, and drawing her shawl higher round her throat. It was the end of May, and the weather was very warm for the time of the year; but, in her heart of hearts, Madame Melmotte did not like sitting out in the garden.

"Delicious," said Madame Melmotte, repressing a yawn, and drawing her shawl round her throat. It was the end of May, and very warm; but she did not like sitting out in the garden.
