The count started and dropped the snuffbox.
The countess reflected a moment and took a pinch from a gold snuffbox with her husband's portrait on it.
He half rose, meaning to go round, but the aunt handed him the snuffbox, passing it across Helene's back.
On retiring to her own room, she sat in an armchair, her eyes fixed on a miniature portrait of her son on the lid of a snuffbox, while the tears kept coming into her eyes.
Oh, what a splendid reign! he repeated several times, then paused, drew from his pocket a gold snuffbox, lifted it to his nose, and greedily sniffed at it.