"I guessed all this, and told your wife so."

"And what did she say?"

"At first she would not believe; but I trust now," continued
he, glancing towards the window, "she will yield to evidence.
Ask me something more difficult."

"Then, bring here the griffin of Signor Astolfo, and let me mount
en croupe, and go to my wife."

"A more simple thing would be to take the griffin to your wife
and bring her here."

"Here!"

"Yes, here."

"To the Louvre, that would be droll."

"I should think so. Then you would be ennuye no longer?"

"Ma foi! no, but if this goes on much longer, I believe I shall
kill myself."

"Well! shall I give you my page?"

"To me?"