I should never rejoin her myself; in a word, I wished to know her
name,--her family's--her condition; and as I knew the place to
which she was going, I wanted to know from whence she came: but
there was no coming at all this intelligence; a hundred little
delicacies stood in the way. I form'd a score different plans.--
There was no such thing as a man's asking her directly;--the thing
was impossible.

A little French debonnaire captain, who came dancing down the
street, showed me it was the easiest thing in the world: for,
popping in betwixt us, just as the lady was returning back to the
door of the Remise, he introduced himself to my acquaintance, and
before he had well got announced, begg'd I would do him the honour
to present him to the lady.--I had not been presented myself;--so
turning about to her, he did it just as well, by asking her if she
had come from Paris? No: she was going that route, she said.--
Vous n'etes pas de Londres?--She was not, she replied.--Then Madame
must have come through Flanders.--Apparemment vous etes Flammande?
said the French captain.--The lady answered, she was.--Peut etre de
Lisle? added he.--She said, she was not of Lisle.--Nor Arras?--nor
Cambray?--nor Ghent?--nor Brussels?--She answered, she was of
Brussels.

He had had the honour, he said, to be at the bombardment of it last
war;--that it was finely situated, pour cela,--and full of noblesse
when the Imperialists were driven out by the French (the lady made
a slight courtesy)--so giving her an account of the affair, and of
the share he had had in it,--he begg'd the honour to know her
name,--so made his bow.