"We took the express one Thursday evening on the 26th of June. Hardly anyone goes south at that time of the year, so that we had the carriage to ourselves. Both of us were in a bad temper on leaving Paris, sorry for having yielded to the temptation of this journey, and regretting cool Marly, the beautiful Seine, and our lazy boating excursions, our delightful evenings spent on the banks of the river waiting for nightfall. "As soon as the train started Paul settled himself comfortably into a corner, and said: 'It is most idiotic to go to this place.' As it was too late for him to change his mind then, I answered: 'Well, you should not have come.'
"He did not answer, and I felt very much inclined to laugh when I saw how furious he looked. He certainly looks like a squirrel, but then every one of us has retained the type of some animal or other as the mark of primal race. How many people have jaws like a bulldog, or heads like goats, rabbits, foxes, horses, or oxen. Paul was a squirrel turned into a man. He had its bright, quick eyes, its hair, its pointed nose, its small, fine, supple, active body, and a certain mysterious resemblance in his general bearing: in fact, a similarity of movements, of gestures, and of bearing which might almost be taken for an atavism.
"At last we both went to sleep—the noisy slumber of the railway carriage, which is broken by horrible cramps in the arms and neck, and by the sudden stopping of the train.
"We woke up as we were going along the Rhone. Soon the continuous noise of the grasshoppers came in through the window, a cry which seems to be the voice of the warm earth, the song of Provence. It seemed to instill into our looks, our breasts, and our souls the light and happy feeling of the south, the smell of the parched earth, of the stony and light soil of the olive tree with its grey-green foliage.
"When the train stopped again a porter ran along the train calling out 'Valence' in a sonorous voice, with an accent that again gave us that taste of Provence which the shrill note of the grasshoppers had already imparted to us.
"Nothing happened till we got to Marseilles, where we breakfasted, but when we returned to our carriage we found a woman installed there. Paul, with a delighted look at me, unconsciously gave his short moustache a twirl, and passed his fingers like a comb through his hair, which had become slightly disordered with the night's journey. Then he sat down opposite the newcomer.
"Whenever I happen to see a new face, either while travelling or in society, I become obsessed with the desire to find out what character, mind, and intellectual capacities are hidden beneath those features.
"She was a young and pretty woman, a native of the south of France certainly, with splendid eyes, beautiful, wavy black hair, which was so thick, long, and strong that it seemed almost too heavy for her head. She was dressed with a certain southern bad taste which made her look a little vulgar. Her regular features had none of the grace and finish of the refined races, of that slight delicacy which members of the aristocracy inherit from their birth, and which is the hereditary mark of blue blood.
"Her bracelets were too big to be of gold; she wore earrings with white stones too big to be diamonds, and she belonged unmistakably to the people. One would guess that she would talk too loud, and use exaggerated gestures.
"When the train started she remained motionless in her place, in the attitude of a woman who was in a rage. She had not even looked at us.
"Paul began to talk to me, evidently with an eye to effect, trying to attract her attention, as shopkeepers expose their choice wares to catch the notice of passers-by. She did not seem to hear.
"'Toulon! Ten minute's wait! Refreshment room!' the porter shouted.
"Paul motioned to me to get out, and, as soon as we were on the platform, he said:
"'I wonder who on earth she can be?'
"I began to laugh. 'I am sure I don't know, and I don't in the least care.'
"He was quite excited.
"'She is an uncommonly fresh and pretty girl. What eyes she has, and how cross she looks. She must be dreadfully worried, for she takes no notice of anything.'
"'You will have all your trouble for nothing,' I ventured.
"He began to lose his temper.
"'I am not taking any trouble, my dear fellow. I think her an extremely pretty woman, that is all. If one could only speak to her! But I don't know how to begin. Can't you give me an idea? Can't you guess who she is?'
"'Upon my word, I cannot. I rather think she is some actress who is going to rejoin her company after some love adventure.'
"He seemed quite upset, as if I had said something insulting.
"'What makes you think that? On the contrary, I think she looks most respectable.'
"'Just look at her bracelets,' I said, 'her earrings, and her whole dress. I should not be the least surprised if she were a dancer or a circus rider, but most likely a dancer. Her whole style smacks very much of the theatre.'
"He evidently did not like the idea.
"'She is much too young, I am sure; why, she is hardly twenty.'
"'Well,' I replied, 'there are many things which one can do before one is twenty; dancing and reciting are among them, without counting another business which is, perhaps, her sole occupation.'
"'Take your seats for Nice, Ventimiglia,' the guards and porters called out.
"We got in; our fellow-passenger was eating an orange. She certainly was not refined. She had spread her handkerchief on her knees, and the way in which she tore off the peel and opened her mouth to put in the pieces, and then spat the pips out of the window, showed that her education had been decidedly vulgar. She seemed more unapproachable than ever, and swallowed the fruit with an exceedingly comic air of rage.
"Paul devoured her with his eyes, and tried to attract her attention and excite her curiosity, but in spite of his talk and of the manner in which he brought in well-known names, she did not pay the least attention to him.
"After passing Fréjus and St. Raphael, the train passes through a veritable garden, a paradise of roses, of groves of oranges and lemons covered with fruit and flowers at the same time. That delightful coast from Marseilles to Genoa is a kingdom of perfumes in a land of flowers.
"June is the time to see it, when in every narrow valley and on every slope the most exquisite flowers are growing luxuriantly. And the roses! fields, hedges, groves of roses! They climb up the walls, blossom on the roofs, hang from the trees, peep out from among the bushes; they are white, red, yellow, large and small, ordinary and quiet, with a simple dress, or full in brilliant and heavy toilettes. Their powerful perfume makes the air heavy and relaxing, while the still more penetrating lasting odour of the orange blossoms sweetens the atmosphere, till it might almost be called a sugarplum for the olfactory nerve.
"The shore, with its brown rocks, was bathed by the motionless Mediterranean. The hot summer sun stretched like a fiery cloth over the mountains, over the long expanses of sand, and over the hard, set blue sea. The train went on, through the tunnels, along the slopes, above the water, on straight, wall-like viaducts, and a soft, vague, saltish smell came up, a smell of drying seaweed, mingled at times with the strong, heavy perfume of the flowers.
"But Paul neither saw, nor looked at, nor smelled anything, for our fellow-traveller engrossed all his attention.
"When we got to Cannes, as he wished to speak to me, he signed to me to get out again, and as soon as I had done so he took me by the arm.
"'Do you know she is really charming. Just look at her eyes; and I never saw anything like her hair.'
"'Don't excite yourself,' I replied. 'Tackle her, if you have any intentions that way. She does not look impregnable, I fancy, although she appears to be a little bit grumpy.'
"'Why don't you speak to her?' he said. 'I don't know what to say, for I am always terribly stupid at first; I can never make advances to a woman in the street. I follow them, go round and round them, quite close to them, but I never know what to say at first. I only once tried to enter into conversation with a woman in that way. As I clearly saw that she was waiting for me to make overtures, and as I felt bound to say something, I stammered out, "I hope you are quite well, Madame?" She laughed in my face, and I made my escape.'
"I promised Paul to do all I could to bring about a conversation, and when we had taken our places again, I politely asked our neighbour:
"'Have you any objection to the smell of tobacco, Madame?'
"She merely replied: 'Non capisco.'
"So she was an Italian! I felt an absurd inclination to laugh. As Paul did not understand a word of that language, I was obliged to act as his interpreter, so I said in Italian:
"'I asked you, Madame, whether you had any objection to tobacco smoke?'
"With an angry look, she replied, 'Che mi fa?'
"She had neither turned her head nor looked at me, and I really did not know whether to take this What does it matter to me, for an authorisation, a refusal, a real sign of indifference, or for a mere 'Leave me alone.'
"'Madame,' I replied, 'if you mind the smell of tobacco in the least—'
"She again said, 'mica,' in a tone of voice which seemed to mean, 'I wish to goodness you would leave me alone!' It was, however, a kind of permission, so I said to Paul:
"'You can smoke.'
"He looked at me in that curious sort of way that people have when they try to understand others who are talking in a strange language before them, and asked me:
"'What did you say to her?'
"'I asked if we might smoke, and she said we might do whatever we liked.'
"Whereupon I lighted my cigar.
"'Did not she say anything more?'
"'If you had counted her words you would have noticed that she used exactly six, two of which gave me to understand that she knew no French, so four remained, and a lot cannot be said in four words.'
"Paul seemed quite unhappy, disappointed, and at sea.
"But suddenly the Italian asked me, in that tone of discontent which seemed habitual to her, 'Do you know at what time we shall get to Genoa?'
"'At eleven o'clock,' I replied. Then after a moment I went on:
"'My friend and I are also going to Genoa, and if we can be of any service to you, we shall be very happy. As she did not answer, I insisted: 'You are alone and if we can be of service...' But she interrupted with such a 'mica,' that I did not venture on another word.
"'What did she say?' Paul asked.
"'She said that she thought you were charming.'
"But he was in no humour for joking, and begged me, dryly, not to make fun of him, so I translated her question and my polite offer, which had been so pertly rejected.
"Then he became as agitated as a squirrel in a cage.
"'If we only knew,' he said, 'what hotel she was going to, we would go to the same. Try and find out, so as to have another opportunity for making her speak.'
"It was not particularly easy, and I did not know what pretext to invent, anxious as I was to make the acquaintance of this unapproachable person.
"We passed Nice, Monaco, Mentone, and the train stopped at the frontier for the examination of luggage.
"Although I hate those badly brought-up people who breakfast and dine in railway-carriages, I went and bought a quantity of good things to make one last attack on her by their means. I felt sure that this girl must, ordinarily, be by no means inaccessible. Something had put her out and made her irritable, but very little would suffice, a mere word or some agreeable offer, make her unbend, to decide her and overcome her.
"We started again, and we three were still alone. I spread my eatables out on the seat. I cut up the fowl, put the slices of ham neatly on a piece of paper, and then carefully laid out our dessert, the strawberries, plums, cherries, and cakes, close to the girl.
"When she saw that we were going to eat she took a piece of chocolate and two small rolls out of her pocket and began to eat them with her beautiful sharp teeth.
"'Ask her to have some of ours,' Paul said in a whisper.
"'That is exactly what I want to do, but it is rather a difficult matter.'
"As she, however, glanced from time to time at our provisions, I felt sure that she would still be hungry when she had finished what she had. So as soon as her frugal meal was over, I said to her:
"'It would be very kind of you if you would take some of this fruit.'
"Again she said 'mica,' but less crossly than before.
"'Well, then,' I said, 'may I offer you a little wine? I see you have not drunk anything. It is Italian wine, and as we are now in your own country, we should be very pleased to see such a pretty Italian mouth accept the offer of its French neighbours.'
"She shook her head slightly, evidently wishing to refuse, but very desirous of accepting, and her 'mica' this time was almost polite. I took the bottle, which was covered with straw in the Italian fashion, and filling the glass I offered it to her.
"'Please drink it,' I said, 'to bid us welcome to your country.'
"She took the glass with her usual look, and emptied it at a draught, like a woman tormented with thirst, and then gave it back to me without even saying 'Thank you.'
"Then I offered her the cherries. 'Please take some,' I said; 'we shall be so pleased if you will.'
"Out of her corner she looked at all the fruit spread out beside her, and said so rapidly that I could scarcely follow her: 'A me non piacciono ne le ciliegie ne le susine; amo soltano le fragole.'
"'What does she say?' Paul asked.
"'That she does not care for cherries or plums, but only for strawberries.'
"I put a newspaper full of wild strawberries on her lap, and she ate them quickly, throwing them into her mouth from some distance in a coquettish and charming manner.
"When she had finished the little red heap which we had seen rapidly diminishing, melting and disappearing under the rapid action of her hands, I asked her:
"'What may I offer you now?'
"'I will take a little chicken,' she replied.
"She certainly devoured half of it, tearing it to pieces with the rapid movements of her jaws like some carnivorous animal. Then she made up her mind to have some cherries, which she 'did not like,' then some plums, then some little cakes. Then she said, 'I have had enough,' and sat back in her corner.
"I was much amused, and tried to make her eat more, pressing her, in fact, till she suddenly got in a rage again, and flung such a furious 'mica' at me, that I would no longer run the risk of spoiling her digestion.
"I turned to my friend. 'My poor Paul,' I said, 'I am afraid we have had our trouble for nothing.'
"Night was coming on, one of those hot summer nights which extend their warm shade over the burning and exhausted earth. Here and there, in the distance by the sea, over capes and promontories bright stars began to shine on the dark horizon, which I was, at times, almost inclined to confound with lighthouses.
"The scent of the orange-trees became more penetrating, and we breathed with delight, distending our lungs to inhale it more deeply. The balmy air was soft, delicious, almost divine.
"Suddenly I noticed something like a shower of stars under the dense shade of the trees along the line where it was quite dark. It might have been taken for drops of light, leaping, flying, playing and running among the leaves, or for small stars fallen from the skies in order to have an excursion on the earth; but they were only fireflies dancing a strange fiery ballet in the perfumed air.
"One of them happened to come into our carriage and shed its intermittent light, which seemed to be extinguished one moment and to be burning the next. I covered the carriage-lamp with its blue shade and watched the strange fly careering about in its fiery flight. Suddenly it settled on the dark hair of our neighbour, who was dozing after dinner. Paul seemed delighted, his eyes fixed on the bright, sparkling spot which looked like a living jewel on the forehead of the sleeping woman.
"The Italian awoke about eleven o'clock, with the bright insect still in her hair. When I saw her move, I said: 'We are just getting to Genoa, Madame,' and she murmured, without answering me, as if possessed by some obstinate and embarrassing thought:
"'What am I going to do, I wonder?'
"And then she suddenly asked:
"'Would you like me to come with you?'
"I was so taken aback that I really did not understand her.
"'With us? What do you mean?'
"She repeated, looking more and more furious:
"'Would you like me to go with you now, as soon as we get out of the train?'
"'I am quite willing; but where do you want to go to? Where shall I take you to?'
"She shrugged her shoulders with an air of supreme indifference.
"'Wherever you like; what does it matter to me?' She repeated her 'Che mi fa?' twice.
"'But we are going to the hotel.'
"'Very well, let us all go to the hotel,' she said, in a contemptuous voice.
"I turned to Paul, and said:
"'She wants to know if we should like her to come with us.'
"My friend's utter surprise restored my self-possession. He stammered:
"'With us? Where to? What for? How?'
"'I don't know, but she made this strange proposal to me in a most irritable voice. I told her that we were going to the hotel, and she said: 'Very well, let us all go there!' I suppose she is without a half-penny. She certainly has a very strange way of making acquaintances.'
"Paul, who was very much excited, exclaimed:
"'I am quite agreeable. Tell her that we will take her wherever she likes.' Then, after a moment's hesitation, he said uneasily:
"'We must know, however, with whom she wants to go,—with you or with me?'
"I turned to the Italian, who did not even seem to be listening to us, and said:
"'We shall be very happy to take you with us, but my friend wants to know whether you will take my arm or his?'
"She opened her black eyes wide with vague surprise, and said, 'Che mi fa?'
"I was obliged to explain myself. 'In Italy, I believe when a man looks after a woman, fulfills all her wishes, and satisfies all her caprices, he is called a patito. Which of us two will you take for your patito?'
"Without the slightest hesitation she replied:
"'You!'
"I turned to Paul. 'You see, my friend, she chooses me; you have no luck.'
"'All the better for you,' he replied, in a rage. Then, after thinking for a few moments, he went on:
"'Do you really care about taking this creature with you? She will spoil our journey. What are we to do with this woman, who looks like I don't know what? They will not take us in at any decent hotel.'
"I, however, was just beginning to find the Italian much nicer than I had thought her at first, and I was now very anxious to take her with us. The idea delighted me. I already felt those little shivers which the expectation of a night of love sends through the veins.
"I replied, 'My dear fellow, we have accepted, and it is too late to recede. You were the first to advise me to say 'Yes.'
"'It is very stupid,' he growled, 'but do as you please.'
"The train whistled, slackened speed, and we ran into the station.
"I got out of the carriage, and offered my new companion my hand. She jumped out lightly, and I gave her my arm, which she took with an air of seeming repugnance. As soon as we had claimed our luggage we started off into the town, Paul walking in complete silence, with a nervous step.
"'To what hotel shall we go?' I asked him. 'It may be difficult to get into the City of Paris Hotel with a woman, especially with this Italian.'
"Paul interrupted me: 'Yes, with an Italian who looks more like a strumpet than a duchess. However, that is no business of mine. Do just as you please.'
"I was in a state of perplexity. I had written to the City of Paris to reserve our rooms, and now I did not know what to do.
"Two commissionnaires followed us with our luggage. I continued: 'You might as well go first, and say that we are coming; and give the landlord to understand that I have a—a friend with me, so that we should like rooms quite by themselves for us three, so as not to be brought in contact with other travellers. He will understand, and we will decide according to his answer.'
"But Paul growled, 'Thank you; such commissions and such a r?le do not suit me by any means. I did not come here to get ready your apartments or to minister to your pleasures.'
"But I was insistent: 'Look here, don't, be angry. It is surely far better to go to a good hotel than to a bad one, and it is not difficult to ask the landlord for three separate bedrooms and a dining-room.'
"I put a stress on three, and that decided him.
"He went on first, and I saw him enter the great doorway of a fine hotel, while I remained on the other side of the street dragging along my Italian who did not say a word, and followed by the porters with the luggage.
"Paul came back at last, looking as dissatisfied as my companion.
"'That is settled,' he said, 'and they will take us in; but there are only two bedrooms. You must settle it as you can.'
"I followed him, rather ashamed of going in with such a strange companion.
"There were two bedrooms separated by a small sitting-room. I ordered a cold supper, and then I turned to the Italian with a perplexed look.
"'We have only been able to get two rooms, so you must choose which you like.'
"She replied with her eternal 'Che mi fa?' I thereupon took up her little black wooden box, just like those which servants use, and took it into the room on the right, which I had chosen for her—for us. A bit of paper was fastened on to the box, on which was written, 'Mademoiselle Francesca Rondoli, Genoa.'
"'Your name is Francesca?' I asked, and she nodded her head, without replying.
"'We shall have supper directly,' I continued. 'Meanwhile, I daresay you would like to freshen yourself up a bit!'
"She answered with a 'mica,' a phrase which she employed just as frequently as 'Che mi fa,' but I went on: 'It is always pleasant after a journey.'
"Then I suddenly remembered that she had not, perhaps, the necessary objects, for she appeared to me in a very singular position, as if she had just escaped from some disagreeable adventure, and I brought her my dressing-case.
"I put out all the little instruments for cleanliness and comfort which it contained: a nailbrush, a new toothbrush,—for I always carry a selection of them about with me,—my nail-scissors, a nail-file, and sponges. I uncorked a bottle of Eau de Cologne, one of lavender-water, and a little bottle of new-mown hay, so that she might have a choice. Then I opened my powder-box, and put out the powder-puff, put my fine towels over the water-jug, and placed a piece of new soap near the basin.
"She watched my movements with a vexed look in her wide-open eyes, without appearing either surprised or pleased by my forethought.
"Here is all that you require, I then said; 'I will tell you when supper is ready.'
"When I returned to the sitting-room I found that Paul had taken possession of the other room, and had shut himself in, so I sat down to wait.
"A waiter went back and forth, bringing plates and glasses. He laid the table slowly, then put a cold fowl on it, and told me that all was ready.
"I knocked gently at Mademoiselle Rondoli's door. 'Come in,' she said, and when I did so I was struck by a strong, heavy smell of perfumes, as if I were in a hairdresser's shop.
"The Italian was sitting on her box in an attitude either of thoughtful discontent or absent-mindedness. The towel was still folded over the water-jug, which was quite full, and the soap, untouched and dry, was lying beside the empty basin; but one would have thought that the young woman had drunk half of the bottles of scent. The Eau de Cologne, however, had been spared, as only about a third of it had gone; but to make up for that she had used a surprising amount of lavender-water and new-mown hay. A cloud of violet powder, a vague white mist, seemed still to be floating in the air, from the effects of her over-powdering her face and neck. It seemed to cover her eyelashes, eyebrows, and the hair on her temples like snow, while her cheeks were plastered with it, and layers of it covered her nostrils, the comers of her eyes, and her chin.
"When she got up she exhaled such a strong odour of scent that it almost made me feel faint.
"When we sat down to supper I found that Paul was in a most execrable temper, and I could get nothing out of him but words of blame and irritation, and disagreeable compliments.
"Mademoiselle Francesca ate like an ogre, and as soon as she had finished her meal she threw herself upon the sofa. As for me, I saw the decisive moment approaching for settling how we were to apportion the rooms. I determined to take the bull by the horns, and sitting down by the Italian I gallantly kissed her hand.
"She half opened her tired eyes looked at me, sleepy and discontented.
"'As we have only two bedrooms, will you allow me to share yours with you?'
"'Do just as you like,' she said. 'It is all the same to me. Che mi fa?'
"Her indifference vexed me.
"'But you are sure you do not mind my being in your room with you?' I said.
"'It is all the same to me; do just as you like.'
"'Should you like to go to bed at once?'
"'Yes; I am very sleepy.'
"She got up, yawned, gave Paul her hand, who took it with a furious look, and I lighted her into our room. A disquieting feeling haunted me. 'Here is all you want,' I said again.
"This time I took care to pour half the water into the basin, and to put a towel near the soap.
"Then I went back to Paul. As soon as I got into the room, he said, 'You have got a nice sort of a creature there!' and I answered, laughing, 'My dear friend, don't speak ill of sour grapes,' and he replied, ill-temperedly:
"'Just take care how this ends, my good fellow.'
"I almost trembled with that feeling of fear which assails us after some suspicious love escapade—that fear which spoils our pleasant meetings, our unexpected caresses, our chance kisses. However, I put a bold face on the matter. 'At any rate, the girl is no adventuress.'
"But the fellow had me in his power; he had seen the shadow of my anxiety on my face.
"'What do you know about her? You really astonish me. You pick up an Italian woman travelling alone in the train, and she volunteers, with most singular cynicism, to go and be your mistress in any old hotel. You take her with you, and then you declare that she is not a tart! And you persuade yourself that you are not running more risk than if you were to go and spend the night with a woman who had smallpox.'
"He laughed with an unpleasant and angry laugh. I sat down, a prey to uneasiness. What was I to do, for he was right after all? And a struggle began within me, between desire and fear.
"He went on: 'Do as you like, I have warned you, so do not complain of the consequences.'
"But I saw such ironical gaiety in his eyes, such a delight in his revenge; he made fun of me so good-naturedly, that I did not hesitate any longer. I gave him my hand, and said, 'Good night. You know the old saying: "A victory without peril is a triumph without glory," and upon my word, the victory is worth the danger.'
"And with a firm step I went into Francesca's room.
"I stopped short at the door in surprise and astonishment. She was already asleep, quite naked on the bed. Sleep had overcome her when she had finished undressing, and she was reposing in the charming attitude of one of Titian's women.
"It seemed as if she had lain down from sheer fatigue in order to take off her stockings, for they were lying on the bed. Then she had thought of something pleasant, no doubt, for she had waited to finish her reverie before moving, and then, closing her eyes, she had lost consciousness. A nightgown, embroidered about the neck such as one buys in cheap, ready-made shops, a beginner's luxury was lying on a chair.
"She was charming, young, firm, and fresh.
"What is prettier than a woman asleep? The body with its soft contours, whose every curve is a temptation, whose plump softness stirs the senses, seems to have been created for the repose of the bed. Only when it is lying upon the sheets does one get the full value of that undulating line which curves in at the waist, curves out at the hips and then runs down the charming outline of the leg, ending at the point of the foot. I was on the point of forgetting my friend's prudent counsels, but suddenly turning to the washstand I saw everything as I had left it, and I sat down, anxious, and a prey to irresolution.
"I remained thus for a long time, not able to make up my mind what to do. Retreat was impossible, and I must either pass the night on a chair, or go to bed myself at my own risk and peril.
"I had no thoughts of sleeping either here or there, for my head was too excited and my eyes too occupied.
"I stirred incessantly, feverish, uncomfortable, enervated. Then I began to reason with myself, certainly with a view to capitulation: 'If I lie down that does not bind me to anything, and I shall certainly be more comfortable on a mattress than on a chair.'
"I undressed slowly, and then, stepping over the sleeping girl, I stretched myself out against the wall, turning my back on temptation.
"In this position I remained for a long time without going to sleep, when suddenly my neighbour awoke. She opened her eyes, looked astonished, and still discontented; then seeing that she had nothing on, she got up and calmly put on her nightgown with as much indifference as if I had not been present.
"Then... I seized the opportunity, but this did not appear to disturb her at all. She immediately went quietly to sleep again, with her head resting on her right arm. And I began to meditate on the weakness and folly of human nature. Then I went to sleep also.
"She got up early, like a woman who is used to work in the morning. She woke me up by doing so, and I watched her through my half-closed eyelids.
"She came and went without hurrying herself, as if she were astonished at having nothing to do. At last she went to the washstand, and in a moment she emptied all the scent that remained in my bottles. She certainly also used some water, but very little.
"When she was quite dressed she sat down on her box again, and holding one knee between her hands, seemed to be thinking.
"Then I pretended to notice her, and said:
"'Good morning, Francesca.'
"Without seeming in at all a better temper than the previous night, she murmured, 'Good morning.'
"When I asked her whether she had slept well, she nodded 'Yes,' and jumping out of bed, I went and kissed her.
"She turned her face toward me like a child who is being kissed against its will; but I took her tenderly in my arms (the wine being poured out, I would have been very stupid not to drink any more of it). Gently I put my lips on her large eyes, which she closed with evident distaste under my kisses on her fresh cheeks and full lips, which she turned away.
"'You don't seem to like being kissed, I said to her.'
"'Mica' was her only answer.
"I sat down on the trunk by her side, and, passing my arm through hers, I said: 'Mica! mica! mica! in reply to everything. I shall call you Mademoiselle Mica, I think.'
"For the first time I fancied I saw the shadow of a smile on her lips, but it passed by so quickly that I may have been mistaken.
"'But if you never say anything but 'Mica' I shall not know what to do to try and please you. Let us see; what shall we do to-day?'
"She hesitated a moment as if some fancy had flitted through her bead, and then she said carelessly: 'It is all the same to me; whatever you like.'
"'Very well. Mademoiselle Mica, we will get a carriage and go for a drive.'
"'As you please, she said.'
"Paul was waiting for us in the dining-room, looking as bored as third parties generally do in love affairs. I assumed a delighted air, and shook hands with him with triumphant energy.
"'What are you thinking of doing?' he asked.
"'First of all we will go and see a little of the town, and then we might take a carriage, for a drive in the neighbourhood.'
"We breakfasted in silence and then started on foot to visit the museums. We went through the Spinola Palace, the Doria Palace, the Marcello Durazzo, the Red and White Palaces. Francesca either looked at nothing or merely just glanced carelessly at all the various masterpieces. Paul followed us, growling all sorts of disagreeable things. Then we all three took a silent drive into the country and returned to dinner.
"The next day it was the same thing and the next day again; so on the third Paul said to me: 'Look here, I am going to leave you; I am not going to stop here for three weeks watching you make love to this creature.'
"I was perplexed and annoyed, for to my great surprise I had become singularly attached to Francesca. A man is but weak and foolish, carried away by the merest trifle, and a coward every time that his senses are excited or mastered. I clung to this unknown girl, silent and dissatisfied as she always was. I liked her somewhat ill-tempered face, the dissatisfied droop of her mouth, the weariness of her look; I liked her fatigued movements, the contemptuous way in which she yielded to my wishes, the very indifference of her caresses. A secret bond, that mysterious bond of animal love, the secret attachment to a possession which does not satiate, bound me to her. I told Paul so, quite frankly. He treated me as if I had been a fool, and then said:
"'Very well, take her with you.'
"But she obstinately refused to leave Genoa, without giving any reason. I besought, I reasoned, I promised, but all was of no avail, and so I stayed on.
"Paul declared that he would go by himself, and went so far as to pack up his portmanteau; but he remained all the same.
"Thus a fortnight passed. Francesca was always silent and irritable, lived beside me rather than with me, responded to all my desires, all my demands, and all my propositions with her perpetual 'Che mi fa,' or with her no less perpetual 'Mica.'
"My friend got more and more furious, but my only answer was, 'You can go if you are tired of staying. I am not detaining you.'
"Then he called me names, overwhelmed me with reproaches, and exclaimed: 'Where do you think I can go to now? We had three weeks at our disposal, and here is a fortnight gone! I cannot continue my journey now; and, in any case, I am not going to Venice, Florence, and Rome all by myself. But you will pay for it, and more dearly than you think for, most likely. You are not going to bring a man all the way from Paris in order to shut him up at a hotel in Genoa with an Italian adventuress.'
"When I told him, very calmly, to return to Paris, he exclaimed that he was going to do so the very next day; but the next day he was still there, still in a rage and swearing.
"By this time we began to be known in the streets, through which we wandered from morning till night, those narrow streets without footpaths, which are like an immense stone labyrinth with tomb-like passages. We went through those windy gorges, narrowed between such high walls that the sky is hardly visible. Sometimes French people would turn round astonished at meeting their fellow-countrymen with this bored girl in her loud clothes, and who looked singularly out of place, not to say compromising, beside us.
"She used to walk along, leaning on my arm, without looking at anything. Why did she remain with me, with us, who seemed to give her so little pleasure? Who was she? Where did she come from? What was she doing? Had she any plan or idea? How did she live? As an adventuress, or by chance meetings? I tried in vain to find out and to explain it. The better I knew her the more enigmatical she became. She was not one of those who make a living by, and a profession of, venal love. She rather seemed to me to be a girl of poor family who had been seduced and taken away, and then cast aside and lost. What did she think was going to become of her, or for whom was she waiting? She certainly did not appear to be trying to make a conquest of me, or to get any profit out of me.
"I tried to question her, to speak to her of her childhood and family; but she never gave me an answer. I stayed with her, my heart unfettered and my senses enchained, never wearied of holding this proud and quarrelsome woman in my arms, captivated by my senses, or rather seduced, overcome, by the youthful, healthy, powerful charm which emanated from her sweet-smelling person and from the robust lines of her body.
"Another week passed, and the term of my holiday was drawing to a close, for I had to be back in Paris by July 11. By this time Paul had come to take his part in the adventure, though still grumbling at me, while I invented pleasures, distractions, and excursions to amuse my mistress and my friend; and in order to do this I gave myself a large amount of trouble.
"One day I proposed an excursion to Santa Margarita, a charming little town in the midst of gardens, hidden at the foot of a slope which stretches far into the sea. We all three were following the excellent road which goes along the foot of the mountain. Suddenly Francesca said to me: 'I shall not be able to go with you to-morrow; I must go and see some of my relatives.'
"That was all; I did not ask her any questions, as I was quite sure she would not answer me."
"The next morning she got up very early; then as I remained in bed, she sat down at the foot of it, and said in a constrained and hesitating voice:
"'If I do not come back to-night, will you come and fetch me?'
"'Most certainly I shall,' was my reply. 'Where must I come to?'
"Then she explained: 'You must go into Victor-Emmanuel Street, down the Passage Falcone, and Saint Raphael Street, and go into the furniture shop at the bottom, in a court, and there you must ask for Mme Rondoli. That's where it is.'
"And so she went away, leaving me rather astonished.
"When Paul saw that I was alone he stammered out: 'Where is Francesca?' And when I told him what had happened he exclaimed:
"'My dear fellow, we are in luck, let us bolt; as it is, our time is up. Two days, more or less, make no difference. Let us start at once; go and pack up your things. Off we go!'
"But I refused. I could not, as I told him, leave the girl in such a manner, after having lived with her for nearly three weeks. At any rate I ought to say good-bye to her, and make her accept a present; I certainly had no intention of behaving badly to her.
"But he would not listen; he pressed and worried me, but I would not give way.
"I remained indoors for several hours, expecting Francesca's return, but she did not come. At last, at dinner, Paul said with a triumphant air: 'She has thrown you over, my dear fellow; it is certainly very funny, very funny.'
"I must acknowledge that I was surprised and rather vexed. He laughed in my face, and made fun of me.
"'It is not exactly a bad way of getting rid of you, though rather primitive. "Just wait for me, I shall be back in a moment." How long are you going to wait? I should not wonder if you were foolish enough to go and look for her at the address she gave you. "Does Mme Rondoli live here, please?" I'll bet that you are longing to go there.'
"'Not in the least,' I protested, 'and I assure you that if she does not come back to-morrow morning I shall start by the express at eight o'clock. I shall have waited twenty-four hours, and that is enough; my conscience will be quite clear.'
"I spent an uneasy and unpleasant evening, for I really had at heart a very tender feeling for her. I went to bed at twelve o'clock, and hardly slept at all. I got up at six, called Paul, packed up my things, and two hours later we started for France together."