“I don’t mind the indecency of it,” she said, “but what strikes me is the exact likeness.”
I understood everything, and I shuddered at the carelessness of which I had been guilty.
“Madam,” I said, “that is the portrait of a Venetian, lady, of whom I was very found.”
“I daresay, but it’s very curious. These two M’s, these cast-off robes sacrificed to love, everything makes my surprise greater.”
“She is a nun and named M—— M——.”
“And a Welsh niece of mine at Camberi is also named M—— M——, and belongs to the same order. Nay, more, she has been at Aix, whence you have come, to get cured of an illness.”
“And this portrait is like her?”
“As one drop of water is like another.”
“If you go to Chamberi call on her and say you come from me; you will be welcome and you will be as much surprised as I am.”
“I will do so, after I have been in Italy. However, I will not shew her this portrait, which would scandalize her; I will put it away carefully.”