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 knees, to accept my rug. You will catch cold—and it will be my fault—and I should never, to the end of my days, forgive myself!'

I did not speak to you, Monsieur,' she said, sharply.

"I was nervous—excited. In the first place, she was charming; in the next place, I was furiously annoyed with myself for the stupid blunder I had made: in short, I found myself in one of those predicaments that call for the taking of strong resolutions.

Madame,' I said, 'accept this rug, or I swear to you I will throw myself out on to the line!'

"And flinging the rug between her and me, I opened the window and seized the outer handle of the door-lock.

"Was I determined?—between ourselves, not altogether, I think; but it appeared that I had the air of being so, for she instantly cried out:

You are mad, Monsieur, you are mad!'

The rug—or I throw myself out!'

"She took the covering, and in a softened tone, said:

But you, Monsieur—you will catch your death of cold.'

Do not be uneasy on my account, Madame, I am not in the least chilly—and, even if I should feel cold, it will only be a just punishment for my unpardonable stupidity.'

Say your over-hastiness; for, as you have said, your motive was a good one. But how came you to mistake another lady for me?'

Because she appeared to me charming!'

"She smiled. The ice was broken—the ice of conversation, that is to say; for, in other respects, I was shivering with cold.

"But how quickly I forgot the cold, the journey—everything! She was delicious, exquisite, adorable! She possessed a cultivated mind, keen, gay, original! She loved travel, like myself. In literature, in music, in everything in fact, we had the same tastes! And then—only imagine!—we found we had a heap of acquaintances in common; she was intimate with the Saint-Chamas, with the Savenois, above all with the Montbazons! Only to think that I had perhaps met her twenty times in their drawing-rooms without having noticed her! Good heavens! where had my eyes been?

"She spoke simply, amiably, with the frankness I so much love. A slight, very slight, provincial accent, almost imperceptible, a chirp rather, giving to her pronunciation something of the singing of a bird. It was intoxicating!

"But though I would have given all the world not to appear cold—great heavens, how cold I was!

"At Dijon (2.20) my right foot was half frozen. We telegraphed to Tonnerre for the articles left behind.

"At Mâcon (4.30) it was the turn of my left foot. We received a message from Tonnerre, saying that the luggage would arrive in Marseilles next day.

"At Lyon-Perranche (5.48) my left hand became insensible; she forgot to demand her sleeping-carriage.

"At Valence (8.3) my right hand followed the example of the left; I learned that she was a widow and childless.

"At Avignon (9.59) my nose became violet; I fancied she had never wholly loved her first husband.

"At Marseilles (12.5 a.m.) I sneezed three times violently ; she handed me back my rug, and said graciously: 'Au revoir!'

Au revoir!' Oh, I was mad with delight.