face had become animated and coloured; and as I saw her standing,
somewhat inclined, her lips parted, a divine trouble in her eyes, I
could have clapped my hands in applause, and was ready to acclaim
her a genuine daughter of the winds. What put it in my head, I
know not: perhaps because it was a Thursday and I was new from the
razor; but I determined to engage her attention no later than that
day. She was approaching that part of the court in which I sat
with my merchandise, when I observed her handkerchief to escape
from her hands and fall to the ground; the next moment the wind had
taken it up and carried it within my reach. I was on foot at once:
I had forgot my mustard-coloured clothes, I had forgot the private
soldier and his salute. Bowing deeply, I offered her the slip of
cambric.

'Madam,' said I, 'your handkerchief. The wind brought it me.'

I met her eyes fully.

'I thank you, sir,' said she.

'The wind brought it me,' I repeated. 'May I not take it for an
omen? You have an English proverb, "It's an ill wind that blows
nobody good."'

'Well,' she said, with a smile, '"One good turn deserves another."
I will see what you have.'

She followed me to where my wares were spread out under lee of a
piece of cannon.