"No, but I have often seen you passing under my window. I live at St.
Roch, near the bridge."

The way in which the woman told her yarn convinced us that she was an
adept in the science of prostitution, but we thought Capsucefalo, in
spite of the count, worthy of the pillory. The girl was about ten years
older than M. M., she was pretty, but light-complexioned, while my
beautiful nun had fine dark brown hair and was at least three inches
taller.

After twelve o'clock we sat down to supper, and did honour to the
excellent meal which my dear Antoinette had prepared for us. We were
cruel enough to leave the poor wretch without offering her so much as a
glass of wine, but we thought it our duty.

While we were talking, the jolly Englishman made some witty comments on
my eagerness to convince him that he had not enjoyed M. M.'s favours.

"I can't believe," said he, "that you have shewn so much interest without
being in love with the divine nun."

I answered by saying that if I were her lover I was much to be pitied in
being condemned to go to the parlour, and no farther.

"I would gladly give a hundred guineas a month," said he, "to have the
privilege of visiting her at the grating."

So saying he gave me my hundred sequins, complimenting me on my success,
and I slipped them forthwith into my pocket.