Riviere spoke not a word; his head bowed, he was looking at his hands. Robineau standing before him, dared not speak. Even stricken, the old lion daunted him. Expressions of loyalty, of ever more rapt devotion kept mounting to his lips, but each time he raised his eyes he encountered the grey hair, the head three-quarters bowed, the lips tight-sealed over their bitter potion. Finally he screwed up his courage:
'Monsieur le Directeur...'
[Night Flight, Saint-Exupery, A. d.]