but not my heart."

Thus I tried to calm myself. A few minutes later Desgenais tapped me on
the shoulder.

"We shall go to supper at once," said he. "You will give your arm to
Marco."

"Listen," I said; "I hardly know what I am experiencing. It seems to me
I see limping Vulcan covering Venus with kisses while his beard smokes
with the fumes of the forge. He fixes his staring eyes on the dazzling
skin of his prey. His happiness in the possession of his prize makes him
laugh for joy, and at the same time shudder with happiness, and then he
remembers his father, Jupiter, seated on high among the gods."

Desgenais looked at me but made no reply; taking me by the arm he led me
away.

"I am tired," he said, "and I am sad; this noise wearies me. Let us go
to supper, that will refresh us."

The supper was splendid, but I could not touch it.

"What is the matter with you?" asked Marco.

I sat like a statue, making no reply and looking at her from head to
foot with amazement.

She began to laugh, and Desgenais, who could see us from his table,
joined her. Before her was a large crystal glass cut in the shape of a
chalice, which reflected the glittering lights on its thousand sparkling
facets, shining like the prism and revealing the seven colors of the
rainbow. She listlessly extended her arm and filled it to the brim with
Cyprian and a sweetened Oriental wine which I afterward found so bitter
on the deserted Lido.

"Here," she said, presenting it to me, "per voi, bambino mio."

"For you and for me," I said, presenting her my glass in turn.

She moistened her lips while I emptied my glass, unable to conceal the
sadness she seemed to read in my eyes.

"Is it not good?" she asked.

"No," I replied.

"Perhaps your head aches?"

"No."

"Or you are tired?"

"No."

"Ah! then it is the ennui of love?"

With these words she became serious, for in spite of herself, in
speaking of love, her Italian heart beat the faster.

A scene of folly ensued. Heads were becoming heated, cheeks were
assuming that purple hue with which wine suffuses the face as if to
prevent shame appearing there. A confused murmur, like to that of a
rising sea, could be heard all over the room; here and there eyes would
become inflamed, then fixed and empty; I know not what wind stirred
above this drunkenness. A woman rises, as in a tranquil sea the first
wave that feels the tempest's breath foams up to announce it; she makes
a sign with he