“There you are, but don’t let Costa put it on again to-morrow, or he will guess that I or my sister did it to-night.”
“You will do me the same service, then, to-morrow?”
“I or my sister, for she will get up early.”
“Your sister! No, my dear; she would be afraid of giving me too much pleasure by touching me so near.”
“And I am only afraid of hurting you. Is that right? Good heavens! what a state your skin is in!”
“You have not finished yet.”
“I am so short-sighted; turn round.”
“With pleasure. Here I am.”
The little wanton could not resist laughing at what she saw, doubtless, for the first time. She was obliged to touch it to continue rubbing the ointment in, and I saw that she liked it, as she touched it when she had no need, and not being able to stand it any longer I took hold of her hand and made her stop her work in favour of a pleasanter employment.
When she had finished I burst out laughing to hear her ask, in the most serious way, the pot of ointment still in her left hand,