Marcoline was charming in bed. I had not enjoyed the Venetian vices for
nearly eight years, and Marcoline was a beauty before whom Praxiteles
would have bent the knee. I laughed at my brother for having let such a
treasure slip out of his hands, though I quite forgave him for falling in
love with her. I myself could not take her about, and as I wanted her to
be amused I begged my kind old landlord to send her to the play every
day, and to prepare a good supper every evening. I got her some rich
dresses that she might cut a good figure, and this attention redoubled
her affection for me.

The next day, which was the second occasion on which I had visited her,
she told me that she had enjoyed the play though she could not understand
the dialogues; and the day after she astonished me by saying that my
brother had intruded himself into her box, and had said so many
impertinent things that if she had been at Venice she would have boxed
his ears.

"I am afraid," she added, "that the rascal has followed me here, and will
be annoying me."

"Don't be afraid," I answered, "I will see what I can do."

When I got to the hotel I entered the abbe's room, and by Possano's bed I
saw an individual collecting lint and various surgical instruments.

"What's all this? Are you ill?"

"Yes, I have got something which will teach me to be wiser for the
future."