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. Sometimes French people would turn
round astonished at meeting their fellow-countrymen in the company of
this girl with her striking costume, 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 procure her so little
pleasure? Who was she? Where did she come from? What was she doing? Had
she any plan or idea? Where 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 any 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 whom was she waiting for? She certainly did not appear
to be trying to make a conquest of me, or to get any real 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 her in my arms, that
proud and quarrelsome woman, captivated by my senses, or rather seduced,
overcome by a 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 journey was drawing on, 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 Sta Margarita, that charming little
town in the midst of gardens, hidden at the foot of a slope which
stretches far into the sea up to the village of Portofino. 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 relations."

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; t