“With reason.”
“How so?”
“Dreams console for the reality. Last night I had a charming dream.”
“What was it?”
“I dreamed that my wife——”
“You still think of your wife?”
“More than ever, sire; well, I dreamed that she, with her charming face—for she is pretty, sire——”
“So was Eve, who ruined us all.”
“Well, my wife had procured wings and the form of a bird, and so, braving locks and bolts, she passed over the walls of the Louvre, and came to my window, crying, ‘Open, St. Luc, open, my husband.’”
“And you opened?”