While I was talking to the officer the sailors took my trunks, and carried them to my old lodgings without waiting to ask my leave.
I was vexed. I wanted to avoid Leah, and I had intended to sleep at the nearest inn. However, there was no help for it. When I arrived the Jew got up, and said he was delighted to see me again.
It was past three o’clock in the morning, and I felt very ill, so I said I would not get up till late, and that I would dine in my bed without any foie gras. I slept ten hours, and when I awoke I felt hungry and rang my bell.
The maid answered and said that she would have the honour of waiting on me, as Leah had a violent headache.
I made no answer, thanking Providence for delivering me from this impudent and dangerous woman.
Having found my dinner rather spare I told the cook to get me a good supper.
The weather was dreadful. The Venetian consul had heard of my return, and not having seen me concluded I was ill, and paid me a two hours’ visit. He assured me the storm would last for a week at least. I was very sorry to hear it; in the first place, because I did not want to see any more of Leah, and in the second, because I had not got any money. Luckily I had got valuable effects, so this second consideration did not trouble me much.
As I did not see Leah at supper-time I imagined that she was feigning illness to avoid meeting me, and I felt very much obliged to her on this account. As it appeared, however, I was entirely mistaken in my conjectures.
The next day she came to ask for chocolate in her usual way, but she no longer bore upon her features her old tranquillity of expression.
“I will take coffee, mademoiselle,” I observed; “and as I do not want foie gras any longer, I will take dinner by myself. Consequently, you may tell your father that I shall only pay seven paoli a day. In future I shall only drink Orvieto wine.”