"What do you mean by that?"

"I know your predilection."

"Do you know," I interrupted, "that, since we last saw each other,
you have grown very coquettish."

"In what way, may I ask?"

"In that there is no way of accentuating your white body to greater
advantage than by these dark furs, and that--"

The divinity laughed.

"You are dreaming," she cried, "wake up!" and she clasped my arm
with her marble-white hand. "Do wake up," she repeated raucously with
the low register of her voice. I opened my eyes with difficulty.

I saw the hand which shook me, and suddenly it was brown as bronze;
the voice was the thick alcoholic voice of my cossack servant who
stood before me at his full height of nearly six feet.

"Do get up," continued the good fellow, "it is really disgraceful."

"What is disgraceful?"

"To fall asleep in your clothes and with a book besides." He snuffed
the candles which had burned down, and picked up the volume which had
fallen from my hand, "with a book by"--he looked at the title page--