“That is right.”

The next day at ten o’clock we took a coach, but as we were nearing the gate of the city a vis-a-vis, with servants in a foreign livery came tip to us, and the person who was in it called out, “Stop!  Stop!”

The person was the Chevalier de Wurtemburg, who, without deigning to cast even one glance on me, began to say sweet words to Coraline, and thrusting his head entirely out of his carriage he whispered to her.  She answered him likewise in a whisper; then taking my hand, she said to me, laughingly,

“I have some important business with this prince; go to the warren alone, my dear friend, enjoy the hunt, and come to me to-morrow.”

And saying those words she got out, took her seat in the vis-a-vis, and I found myself very much in the position of Lot’s wife, but not motionless.

Dear reader, if you have ever been in such a predicament you will easily realize the rage with which I was possessed:  if you have never been served in that way, so much the better for you, but it is useless for me to try to give you an idea of my anger; you would not understand me.

I was disgusted with the coach, and I jumped out of it, telling the driver to go to the devil.  I took the first hack which happened to pass, and drove straight to Patu’s house, to whom I related my adventure, almost foaming with rage.  But very far from pitying me or sharing my anger, Patu, much wiser, laughed and said,

“I wish with all my heart that the same thing might happen to me; for you are certain of possessing our beautiful Coraline the very first time you are with her.”

“I would not have her, for now I despise her heartily.”  “Your contempt ought to have come sooner.  But, now that is too late to discuss the matter, I offer you, as a compensation, a dinner at the Hotel du Roule.”

“Most decidedly yes; it is an excellent idea.  Let us go.”

The Hotel du Roule was famous in Paris, and I had not been there yet.  The woman who kept it had furnished the place with great elegance, and she always had twelve or fourteen well-chosen nymphs, with all the conveniences that could be desired.  Good cooking, good beds, cleanliness, solitary and beautiful groves.  Her cook was an artist, and her wine-cellar excellent.  Her name was Madame Paris; probably an assumed name, but it was good enough for the purpose.  Protected by the police, she was far enough from Paris to be certain that those who visited her liberally appointed establishment were above the middle class.  Everything was strictly regulated in her house and every pleasure was taxed at a reasonable tariff.  The prices were six francs for a breakfast with a nymph, twelve for dinner, and twice that sum to spend a whole night.  I found the house even better than its reputation, and by far superior to the warren.

We took a coach, and Patu said to the driver,

“To Chaillot.”

“I understand, your honour.”