A Sentimental Journey Through France and Italy by Laurence Sterne
page 65 of 148 (43%)
page 65 of 148 (43%)
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not disposed to break silence: --I followed her example: so, I
looked at the gloves, then to the window, then at the gloves, and then at her,--and so on alternately. I found I lost considerably in every attack: --she had a quick black eye, and shot through two such long and silken eyelashes with such penetration, that she look'd into my very heart and reins.--It may seem strange, but I could actually feel she did. - It is no matter, said I, taking up a couple of the pairs next me, and putting them into my pocket. I was sensible the beautiful grisette had not asked above a single livre above the price.--I wish'd she had asked a livre more, and was puzzling my brains how to bring the matter about.--Do you think, my dear Sir, said she, mistaking my embarrassment, that I could ask a sous too much of a stranger--and of a stranger whose politeness, more than his want of gloves, has done me the honour to lay himself at my mercy?--M'en croyez capable?--Faith! not I, said I; and if you were, you are welcome. So counting the money into her hand, and with a lower bow than one generally makes to a shopkeeper's wife, I went out, and her lad with his parcel followed me. THE TRANSLATION. PARIS. There was nobody in the box I was let into but a kindly old French officer. I love the character, not only because I honour the man |
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