Without staying for those preliminary dallyings which are so sweet when one is at ease, we undressed ourselves, and began with all seriousness to play our part, which we did to perfection.  We looked like a medical student about to perform an operation, and she like a patient, with this difference that it was the patient who arranged the dressing.  When she was ready—­that is, when she had placed the aroph as neatly as a skull-cap fits a parson—­she put herself in the proper position for the preparation to mix with the semen.

The most laughable part of it all was that we were both as serious as two doctors of divinity.

When the introduction of the aroph was perfect the timid lady put out the candle, but a few minutes after it had to be lighted again.  I told her politely that I was delighted to begin again, and the voice in which I paid her this compliment made us both burst into laughter.

I didn’t take so short a time over my second operation as my first, and my sweetheart, who had been a little put out, was now quite at her ease.

Her modesty had now been replaced by confidence, and as she was looking at the aroph fitted in its place, she shewed me with her pretty finger very evident signs of her co-operation in the work.  Then with an affectionate air, she asked me if I would not like to rest, as we had still a good deal to do before our work was at an end.

“You see,” said I, “that I do not need rest, and I think we had better set to again.”

No doubt she found my reason a good one, for, without saying anything, she put herself ready to begin again, and afterwards we took a good long sleep.  When I woke up, feeling as fresh as ever, I asked her to try another operation; and after carrying this through successfully, I determined to be guided by her and take care of myself, for we had to reserve our energies for the following nights.  So, about four o’clock in the morning she left me, and softly made her way to her room, and at daybreak I left the hotel under the protection of the scullion, who took me by a private door I did not know of.

About noon, after taking an aromatic bath, I went to call on Mdlle.  X. C. V., whom I found sitting up in bed as usual, elegantly attired, and with a happy smile on her lips.  She spoke at such length on her gratitude, and thanked me so often, that, believing myself, and with good cause, to be her debtor, I began to get impatient.

“Is it possible,” I said, “that you do not see how degrading your thanks are to me?  They prove that you do not love me, or that if you love me, you think my love less strong than yours.”

Our conversation then took a tender turn, and we were about to seal our mutual ardours without troubling about the aroph, when prudence bade us beware.  It would not have been safe, and we had plenty of time before us.  We contented ourselves with a tender embrace till the night should come.