"I am sure you have done it. You will ruin me with your foolish way of talking."
"But, Hortense----"
"Hush, Oldenburg is watching us all the time."
"Cloten," said the Baron.
"What, baron?"
"Will you go with me to Italy next fall? You know in that matter?"
"Should like it furiously, baron; but, you know, a thousand reasons against it; first, hunting season; secondly, races; thirdly, I hate travelling; fourthly, I do not understand a word of Italian."
"Well, that is the least of all. What one has to know is only, Si, signore, anima mia dolce, and all other things you learn by examining boatmen."
Cloten blushed to the root of his hair, for, as Oldenburg said these words he felt Hortense's foot on his own, and heard her whisper in a voice half drowned by tears:
"There, you see, Arthur; did I not tell you?"