"'Tell me,' he said, 'why it is that this extreme weakness which in
another woman would be hideous, would disgust me, so that the
slightest indication of it would be enough to destroy my love,--why is
it that in you it pleases me, fascinates me? Oh, how I love you!' he
continued. 'All your faults, your frights, your petty foibles, add an
indescribable charm to your character. I feel that I should detest a
Sappho, a strong, courageous woman, overflowing with energy and
passion. O sweet and fragile creature! how couldst thou be otherwise?
That angel's voice, that refined voice, would have been an anachronism
coming from any other breast than thine.'

"'I can give you no hope,' she said. 'Cease to speak thus to me, for
people would make sport of you. It is impossible for me to shut the
door of the theatre to you; but if you love me, or if you are wise,
you will come there no more. Listen to me, monsieur,' she continued in
a grave voice.

"'Oh, hush!' said the excited artist. 'Obstacles inflame the love in
my heart.'

"La Zambinella maintained a graceful and modest attitude; but she held
her peace, as if a terrible thought had suddenly revealed some
catastrophe. When it was time to return to Rome she entered a berlin
with four seats, bidding the sculptor, with a cruelly imperious air,
to return alone in the phaeton. On the road, Sarrasine determined to
carry off La Zambinella. He passed the whole day forming plans, each
more extravagant than the last. At nightfall, as he was going out to
inquire of somebody where his mistress lived, he met one of his
fellow-artists at the door.