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 here in Paris languish for me a fortnight, but I surrender to you the first night, because I am willing to do the honours of my country to a young Westphalian.”

The fair one having cast her eye on two large diamonds on the young stranger’s finger, praised them in so earnest a manner that they passed from Candide’s fingers to those of the marchioness.

As Candide was going home with the Abbé, he felt some qualms of conscience for having been guilty of infidelity to Miss Cunegund. The Abbé shared with him in his uneasiness; he had but an inconsiderable share in the fifty thousand francs that Candide had lost at play, and in the value of the two jewels, half given, half extorted from him. His plan was to profit as much as he could from the advantages which his acquaintance with Candide could procure for him. He spoke to him much of Miss Cunegund, and Candide assured him that he would heartily ask pardon of that fair one for his infidelity to her, when he saw her at Venice.

The Abbé redoubled his civilities and seemed to interest himself warmly in everything that Candide said, did, or seemed inclined to do.

“And so, Sir, you have a rendezvous at Venice?”

“Yes, Monsieur l’Abbé,” answered Candide. “I must indeed go and find Miss Cunegund.”

Then the pleasure he took in talking about the object he loved led him insensibly to relate, according to custom, part of his adventures with the illustrious Westphalian beauty.

“I fancy,” said the Abbé, “Miss Cunegund has a great deal of wit, and that her letters must be very entertaining.”

“I never received any from her,” said Candide, “for you are to consider that being kicked out of the castle on her account, I could not write to her; especially as, soon after my departure, I heard she was dead; that though I found her again, I lost her, and that I have sent a messenger to her two thousand five hundred leagues from here, and I wait here for his return with an answer from her.”

The Abbé listened attentively—and seemed a little thoughtful. He soon took leave of the two strangers, after having embraced them tenderly. The next day, immediately on waking, Candide received a letter couched in these terms:

“My dearest lover, I have been ill in this city these eight days. I have heard of your arrival and should fly to your arms, were I able to move a limb of me. 1em