o wait? And as for the love that
he felt, must he not prove it? His tongue was mute, it was frozen by the
conventions of the noble Faubourg, the majesty of a sick headache, the
bashfulness of love. But no power on earth could veil his glances; the
heat and the Infinite of the desert blazed in eyes calm as a panther's,
beneath the lids that fell so seldom. The Duchess enjoyed the steady
gaze that enveloped her in light and warmth.

"Mme la Duchesse," he answered, "I am afraid I express my gratitude for
your goodness very badly. At this moment I have but one desire--I wish
it were in my power to cure the pain."

"Permit me to throw this off, I feel too warm now," she said, gracefully
tossing aside a cushion that covered her feet.

"Madame, in Asia your feet would be worth some ten thousand sequins.

"A traveler's compliment!" smiled she.

It pleased the sprightly lady to involve a rough soldier in a labyrinth
of nonsense, commonplaces, and meaningless talk, in which he manoeuvred,
in military language, as Prince Charles might have done at close
quarters with Napoleon. She took a mischievous amusement in
reconnoitring the extent of his infatuation by the number of foolish
speeches extracted from a novice whom she led step by step into a
hopeless maze, meaning to leave him there in confusion. She began by
laughing at him, but nevertheless it pleased her to make him forget how
time went.

The length of a first visit is frequently a compliment, but Armand was
innocent of any such intent. The famous explorer spent an hour in chat
on all sorts of subjects, said nothing that he meant to say, and was
feeling that he was only an instrument on whom this woman played, when
she rose, sat upright, drew the scarf from her hair, and wrapped it
about her throat, leant her elbow on the cushions, did him the honour
of a complete cure, and rang for lights. The most graceful movement
succeeded to complete repose. She turned to M. de Montriveau, from whom
she had just extracted a confidence which seemed to interest her deeply,
and said:

"You wish to make game of me by trying to make me believe that you
have never loved. It is a man's great pretension with us. And we always
believe it! Out of pure politeness. Do we not know what to expect
from it for ourselves? Where is the man that has found but a single
opportunity of losing his heart? But you love to deceive us, and we
submit to be deceived, poor foolish creatures that we are; for