For the first time I felt vibrating in my
body a cord that was not attuned to my heart. The sight of that beautiful
animal had aroused a responsive roar from another animal in my bowels. I
felt sure I would never tell that woman that I loved her or that she
pleased me or even that she was beautiful; there was nothing on my lips
but a desire to kiss her, and say to her: "Make a girdle of those
listless arms and lean that head on my breast; place that sweet smile on
my lips." My body loved hers, I was under the influence of beauty as of
wine.
Desgenais passed and asked what I was doing there.
"Who is that woman?" I asked.
"What woman? Of whom do you speak?" I took his arm and led him into the
hall. The Italian saw us coming and smiled. I stopped and stepped back.
"Ah!" said Desgenais, "you have danced with Marco?"
"Who is Marco?" I asked.
"Why, that idle creature who is laughing over there. Does she please
you?"
"No," I replied, "I have waltzed with her and wanted to know her name; I
have no further interest in her."
Shame led me to speak thus, but when Desgenais turned away I followed
him.
"You are very prompt," he said, "Marco is no ordinary woman. She was
almost the wife of M. de -----, ambassador to Milan. One of his friends
brought her here. Yet," he added, "you may rest assured I shall speak to
her. We shall not allow you to die so long as there is any hope for you
or any resource left untried.
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