With these words Marcoline drew a superb ring, set with brilliants, from her finger. I was astonished.
“Truly,” I said, “this woman is fond of pleasure and deserves to have it.”
I gave my Lesbian (who might have vied with Sappho) a hundred kisses, and forgave her her infidelity.
“But,” I remarked, “I can’t think why she did not want me to see her; I think she has treated me rather cavalierly.”
“No, I think the reason was that she was ashamed to be seen by my lover after having made me unfaithful to him; I had to confess that we were lovers.”
“Maybe. At all events you have been well paid; that ring is worth two hundred louis.”
“But I may as well tell you that I was well enough paid for the pleasure I gave by the pleasure I received.”
“That’s right; I am delighted to see you happy.”
“If you want to make me really happy, take me to England with you. My uncle will be there, and I could go back to Venice with him.”
“What! you have an uncle in England? Do you really mean it? It sounds like a fairy-tale. You never told me of it before.”