"Then let us speak in Venetian."

"Do you begin, and I will reply."

We began our conversation, but when he came to the word Sabato, Saturday,
which is a Sabo in Venetian, I discovered that he was a real Venetian,
but not from Venice itself. He said I was right, and that he judged from
my accent that I came from Venice.

"Quite so," said I.

"I thought Bernadi was the only Venetian besides myself in St.
Petersburg."

"You see you are mistaken."

"My name is Count Volpati di Treviso."

"Give me your address, and I will come and tell you who I am, for I
cannot do so here."

"Here it is."

After leaving the count I continued my progress through this wonderful
hall, and two or three hours after I was attracted by the voice of a
female masquer speaking Parisian French in a high falsetto, such as is
common at an opera ball.

I did not recognize the voice but I knew the style, and felt quite