“You will not find me insensible to your offerings.”
“I would begin them at once, but I think that, in order to insure their efficiency, we ought to have supper first. I have taken nothing to-day but a cup of chocolate and a salad of whites of eggs dressed with oil from Lucca and Marseilles vinegar.”
“But, dearest, it is folly! you must be ill?”
“Yes, I am just now, but I shall be all right when I have distilled the whites of eggs, one by one, into your amorous soul.”
“I did not think you required any such stimulants.”
“Who could want any with you? But I have a rational fear, for if I happened to prime without being able to fire, I would blow my brains out.”
“My dear browny, it would certainly be a misfortune, but there would be no occasion to be in despair on that account.”
“You think that I would only have to prime again.”
“Of course.”
While we were bantering in this edifying fashion, the table had been laid, and we sat down to supper. She ate for two and I for four, our excellent appetite being excited by the delicate cheer. A sumptuous dessert was served in splendid silver-gilt plate, similar to the two candlesticks which held four wax candles each. Seeing that I admired them, she said: