He was there in a velvet coat lined with silk, very stylish, but rather ridiculous, and for two years he had never altered his manner of receiving her, not in a single movement!  As soon as he had shut the door, he used to say this:  “Let me kiss your hands, my dear, dear friend!” Then he followed her into the room, when with closed shutters and lighted candles, out of refinement, no doubt, he knelt down before her and looked at her from head to foot with an air of adoration.  On the first occasion that had been very nice and very successful; but now it seemed to her as if she saw Monsieur Delauney acting the last scene of a successful piece for the hundred and twentieth time.  He might really change his manner of acting.  But no, he never altered his manner of acting, poor fellow.  What a good fellow he was, but very commonplace!

And how difficult it was to undress and dress without a lady’s maid!  Perhaps that was the moment when she began to take a dislike to him.  When he said:  “Do you want me to help you?” she could have killed him.  Certainly there were not many men as awkward as he was, or as uninteresting.  Certainly, little Baron de Isombal would never have asked her in such a manner:  “Do you want me to help you?” He would have helped her, he was so witty, so funny, so active.  But there!  He was a diplomatist, he had been about in the world, and had roamed everywhere, and, no doubt, dressed and undressed women who were arrayed in every possible fashion! ...

The church clock struck the three-quarters, and she looked at the dial, and said:  “Oh, how agitated he will be!” and then she quickly left the square; but she had not taken a dozen steps outside, when she found herself face to face with a gentleman who bowed profoundly to her.

“Why!  Is that you, Baron?” she said, in surprise.  She had just been thinking of him.

“Yes, Madame.”  And then, after asking how she was, and a few vague words, he continued:  “Do you know that you are the only one—­you will allow me to say of my lady friends, I hope? who has not yet seen my Japanese collection.”

“But my dear Baron, a lady cannot go to a bachelor’s room like this.”

“What do you mean?  That is a great mistake, when it is a question of seeing a rare collection!”

“At any rate, she cannot go alone.”

“And why not?  I have received a number of ladies alone, only for the sake of seeing my collection!  They come every day.  Shall I tell you their names?  No—­I will not do that; one must be discreet, even when one it not guilty; as a matter of fact, there is nothing improper in going to the house of a well-known serious man who holds a certain position, unless one goes for an unavoidable reason!”

“Well, what you have said is certainly correct, at bottom.”

“So you will come and see my collection?”

“When?”

“Well, now, immediately.”

“Impossible; I am in a hurry.”