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A Sentimental Journey Through France and Italy by Laurence Sterne
page 65 of 148 (43%)
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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