The bookseller said he had not a set in the world. Comment! said
I, taking one up out of a set which lay upon the counter betwixt
us.--He said they were sent him only to be got bound, and were to
be sent back to Versailles in the morning to the Count de B-.

- And does the Count de B-, said I, read Shakespeare? C'est un
esprit fort, replied the bookseller.--He loves English books! and
what is more to his honour, Monsieur, he loves the English too.
You speak this so civilly, said I, that it is enough to oblige an
Englishman to lay out a louis d'or or two at your shop.--The
bookseller made a bow, and was going to say something, when a young
decent girl about twenty, who by her air and dress seemed to be
fille de chambre to some devout woman of fashion, come into the
shop and asked for Les Egarements du Coeur et de l'Esprit: the
bookseller gave her the book directly; she pulled out a little
green satin purse run round with a riband of the same colour, and
putting her finger and thumb into it, she took out the money and
paid for it. As I had nothing more to stay me in the shop, we both
walk'd out at the door together.

- And what have you to do, my dear, said I, with The Wanderings of
the Heart, who scarce know yet you have one? nor, till love has
first told you it, or some faithless shepherd has made it ache,
canst thou ever be sure it is so.--Le Dieu m'en garde! said the
girl.--With reason, said I, for if it is a good one, 'tis pity it
should be stolen; 'tis a little treasure to thee, and gives a
better air to your face, than if it was dress'd out with pearls.

The young girl listened with a submissive attention, holding her
satin purse by its riband in her hand all the time.--'Tis a very