kind of hostelry; but where was I? How was I to suppose that I was in a
hospital?

When I had taken my chocolate, a hair-dresser--quite a fashionable,
dapper fellow--made his appearance, dying to give vent to his chattering
propensities. Guessing that I did not wish to be shaved, he offered to
clip my soft down with the scissors, saying that I would look younger.

"Why do you suppose that I want to conceal my age?"

"It is very natural, because, if your lordship did not wish to do so,
your lordship would have shaved long ago. Countess Marcolini is here;
does your lordship know her? I must go to her at noon to dress her hair."

I did not feel interested in the Countess Marcolini, and, seeing it, the
gossip changed the subject.

"Is this your lordship's first visit to this house? It is the finest
hospital throughout the papal states."

"I quite agree with you, and I shall compliment His Holiness on the
establishment."

"Oh! His Holiness knows all about it, he resided here before he became
pope. If Monsignor Caraffa had not been well acquainted with you, he
would not have introduced you here."

Such is the use of barbers throughout Europe; but you must not put any
questions to them, for, if you do, they are sure to threat you to an
impudent mixture of truth and falsehood, and instead of you pumping them,