"
An impassioned lover of a certain stamp would not feel attracted to a
woman clever enough to choose her own ground; such women are too
clever. However, there is nothing to prove that there was any truth in
Gaston's supposition.
The Vicomtesse took a small house by the side of the lake. As soon as
she was installed in it, Gaston came one summer evening in the
twilight. Jacques, that flunkey in grain, showed no sign of surprise,
and announced /M. le Baron de Nueil/ like a discreet domestic well
acquainted with good society. At the sound of the name, at the sight
of its owner, Mme. de Beauseant let her book fall from her hands; her
surprise gave him time to come close to her, and to say in tones that
sounded like music in her ears:
"What a joy it was to me to take the horses that brought you on this
journey!"
To have the inmost desires of the heart so fulfilled! Where is the
woman who could resist such happiness as this? An Italian woman, one
of those divine creatures who, psychologically, are as far removed
from the Parisian as if they lived at the Antipodes, a being who would
be regarded as profoundly immoral on this side of the Alps, an Italian
(to resume) made the following comment on some French novels which she
had been reading. "I cannot see," she remarked, "why these poor lovers
take such a time over coming to an arrangement which ought to be the
affair of a single morning.
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