natural freedom of all her movements, a charming look which seemed to
say, "I am very glad that you think me pretty," everything, in short,
caused the ardent fire of amorous desires to circulate through my veins.
I could not conceive how such a lovely girl could have spent a fortnight
in Venice without finding a man to marry or to deceive her. I was
particularly delighted with her simple, artless way of talking, which in
the city might have been taken for silliness.

Absorbed in my thoughts, and having resolved in my own mind on rendering
brilliant homage to her charms, I waited impatiently for the end of the
mass.

After breakfast I had great difficulty in convincing the curate that my
seat in the carriage was the last one, but I found it easier to persuade
him on our arrival in Treviso to remain for dinner and for supper at a
small, unfrequented inn, as I took all the expense upon myself. He
accepted very willingly when I added that immediately after supper a
carriage would be in readiness to convey him to P----, where he would
arrive in an hour after a peasant journey by moonlight. He had nothing to
hurry him on, except his wish to say mass in his own church the next
morning.

I ordered a fire and a good dinner, and the idea struck me that the
curate himself might pledge the ring for me, and thus give me the
opportunity of a short interview with his niece. I proposed it to him,
saying that I could not very well go myself, as I did not wish to be
known. He undertook the commission at once, expressing his pleasure at
doing something to oblige me.

He left us, and I remained alone with Christine. I spent an hour with her