“I returned on the following day to Paris, with no other intention than to hasten the improvement of my fortune, by playing deeper than ever, in order to be in a condition to quit Chaillot on the first real occasion for uneasiness.  That night I learned nothing at all calculated to trouble my repose.  The foreigner had, as usual, made his appearance in the Bois de Boulogne; and venturing, from what had passed the preceding day, to accost my servant more familiarly, he spoke to him openly of his passion, but in such terms as not to lead to the slightest suspicion of Manon’s being aware of it.  He put a thousand questions to him, and at last tried to bribe him with large promises; and taking a letter from his pocket, he in vain entreated him, with the promise of some louis d’ors, to convey it to her.

“Two days passed without anything more occurring:  the third was of a different character.  I learned on my arrival, later than usual, from Paris, that Manon, while in the wood, had left her companions for a moment, and that the foreigner, who had followed her at a short distance, approached, upon her making him a sign, and that she handed him a letter, which he took with a transport of joy.  He had only time to express his delight by kissing the billet-doux, for she was out of sight in an instant.  But she appeared in unusually high spirits the remainder of the day; and even after her return to our lodgings, her gaiety continued.  I trembled at every word.

“`Are you perfectly sure,’ said I, in an agony of fear, to my servant, `that your eyes have not deceived you?’ He called Heaven to witness the truth of what he had told me.

“I know not to what excess the torments of my mind would have driven me, if Manon, who heard me come in, had not met me with an air of impatience, and complained of my delay.  Before I had time to reply, she loaded me with caresses; and when she found we were alone, she reproached me warmly with the habit I was contracting of staying out so late.  My silence gave her an opportunity of continuing; and she then said that for the last three weeks I had never spent one entire day in her society; that she could not endure such prolonged absence; that she should at least expect me to give up a day to her from time to time, and that she particularly wished me to be with her on the following day from morning till night.

“`You may be very certain I shall do that,’ said I, in rather a sharp tone.  She did not appear to notice my annoyance; she seemed to me to have more than her usual cheerfulness; and she described, with infinite pleasantry, the manner in which she had spent the day.

“`Incomprehensible girl!” said I to myself; `what am I to expect after such a prelude?’ The adventures of my first separation occurred to me; nevertheless, I fancied I saw in her cheerfulness, and the affectionate reception she gave me, an air of truth that perfectly accorded with her professions.