"I shall always have time to serve your excellency in. Are you stopping
here for long?"

"Three or four days."

When I 'got back to my box Marcoline asked me who were the gentlemen to
whom I had been speaking. I answered coolly and indifferently, but
watching her as I spoke, that they were the Venetian ambassadors on their
way from London. The flush of her cheek died away and was replaced by
pallor; she raised her eyes to heaven, lowered them, and said not a word.
My heart was broken. A few minutes afterwards she asked me which was M.
Querini, and after I had pointed him out to her she watched him furtively
for the rest of the evening.

The curtain fell, we left our box, and at the door of the theatre we
found the ambassadors waiting for their carriage. Mine was in the same
line as theirs. The ambassador Querini said,--

"You have a very pretty young lady with you."

Marcoline stepped forward, seized his hand, and kissed it before I could
answer.

Querini, who was greatly astonished, thanked her and said,--

"What have I done to deserve this honour?"

"Because," said Marcoline, speaking in the Venetian dialect, "I have the
honour of knowing his excellency M. Querini."