“An hour ago you left her and her husband at the door of their apartment, and soon afterwards I took the liberty of calling.  She welcomed me with a pretty bow, and her husband went out directly, begging me to keep her company till his return.  The fair one made no difficulty in sitting next to me on a couch, and this struck me as a good omen, but when I took her hand she gently drew it away.  I then told, her, in as few words as I could, that her beauty had made me in love with her, and that if she wanted a hundred louis they were at her service, if she would drop her melancholy, and behave in a manner suitable to the feelings with which she had inspired me.  She only replied by a motion of the head, which shewed gratitude, but also an absolute refusal of my offer.  ’I am going to-morrow,’ said I. No answer.  I took her hand again, and she drew it back with an air of disdain which wounded me.  I begged her to excuse me, and I left the room without more ado.

“That’s an account of what happened an hour ago.  I am not amorous of her, it was only a whim; but knowing, as I do, that she has no money, her manner astonished me.  I fancied that you might have placed her in a position to despise my offer, and this would explain her conduct, in a measure; otherwise I can’t understand it at all.  May I ask you to tell me whether you are more fortunate than I?”

I was enchanted with the frankness of this noble gentleman, and did not hesitate to tell him all, and we laughed together at our bad fortune:  I had to promise to call on him at Genoa, and tell him whatever happened between us during the two days I purposed to remain at Avignon.  He asked me to sup with him and admire the fair recalcitrant.

“She has had an excellent dinner,” said I, “and in all probability she will not have any supper.”

“I bet she will,” said the marquis; and he was right, which made me see clearly that the woman was playing a part.  A certain Comte de Bussi, who had just come, was placed next to her at table.  He was a good-looking young man with a fatuous sense of his own superiority, and he afforded us an amusing scene.

He was good-natured, a wit, and inclined to broad jokes, and his manner towards women bordered on the impudent.  He had to leave at midnight and began to make love to his fair neighbour forthwith, and teased her in a thousand ways; but she remained as dumb as a statue, while he did all the talking and laughing, not regarding it within the bounds of possibility that she might be laughing at him.

I looked at M. Grimaldi, who found it as difficult to keep his countenance as I did.  The young roue was hurt at her silence, and continued pestering her, giving her all the best pieces on his plate after tasting them first.  The lady refused to take them, and he tried to put them into her mouth, while she repulsed him in a rage.  He saw that no one seemed inclined to take her part, and determined to continue